^^ 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0 


1.1 


■tt  lU   12.2 

[!f  144    ■" 
2.0 


its 


140 


r-2^  II  '-^  ii4 

«« 

6"     

► 

fliotographic 

Sciences 

Carporation 


23  WIST  MAIN  STRfET 

WIBSTIR,N.Y.  MSSO 

(716)t72-4S03 


fV 


iV 


4 


•SJ 


<^ 


;\ 


o 

4^ 


^ 


CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHIVI/iCMH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Instituta  for  Historical  l\Microreproductions  /  institut  Canadian  de  microreproductions  historiques 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notes/Notes  techniques  et  bibiiographiques 


The  Institute  has  attempted  to  obtain  the  best 
original  copy  available  for  filming.  Features  of  this 
copy  which  may  be  bibliographically  unique, 
which  may  alter  any  of  the  images  in  the 
reproduction,  or  which  may  significantly  change 
the  usual  method  of  filming,  are  checlted  below. 


D 


D 


D 


D 
D 


D 


D 


Coloured  covers/ 
Couverture  de  couleur 


I      I    Covers  damagi>d/ 


Couverture  endommagie 


Covers  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Couverture  restaurie  et/ou  pelliculie 


I      I    Cover  title  missing/ 


Le  titre  de  couverture  manque 


I      I   Coloured  maps/ 


Cartes  giographiques  en  couleur 


Coloured  ink  (i.e.  other  than  blue  or  black)/ 
Encre  de  couleur  (i.e.  autre  que  bleue  ou  noire) 


I      I   Coloured  plates  and/or  illustrations/ 


Planches  et/ou  illustrations  en  couleur 

Bound  with  other  material/ 
Relit  avec  d'autres  documents 

Tight  binding  may  cause  shadows  or  distortion 
along  interior  margin/ 

La  re  liure  serrdo  peut  causer  de  I'ombre  ou  de  la 
distortion  le  long  de  la  marge  intirieure 

Blank  leaves  added  during  restoration  may 
appear  within  the  text.  Whenever  possible,  these 
have  been  omitted  from  filming/ 
II  se  peut  que  certaines  pages  blanches  ajouties 
lors  d'une  restauration  apparaissent  dans  le  texte, 
mais,  lorsque  cela  Atait  possible,  ces  pages  n'ont 
pas  itt  filmtes. 

Additional  comments:/ 
Commentaires  suppiimentaires: 


The 
to  til 


L'lr.stitut  a  microfilm^  le  meilleur  exemplaire 
qu'il  lui  a  4t6  possible  de  se  procurer.  Les  details 
de  cet  exemplaire  qui  sont  peut-Atre  uniques  du 
point  de  vue  bibliographique.  qui  peuvent  modifier 
une  image  reproduite.  ou  qui  peuvent  exiger  une 
modification  dans  la  mithode  normaie  de  filmage 
sont  indiquts  ci-dessous. 


D 
D 
D 
13 

n 


0 


Coloured  pages/ 
Pages  de  couleur 

Pages  damaged/ 
Pages  endommagtes 

Pages  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Pages  restaurdes  et/ou  pellicul4es 

Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxed/ 
Pages  d6color6es.  tachettes  ou  piqudes 

Pages  detached/ 
Pages  ddtachtes 


The 
posa 
of  th 
filmi 


Orig 
begi 
the  I 
sion, 
othe 
first 
sion, 
or  ill 


rri    Showthrough/ 


Transparence 

Quality  of  prir 

Quality  intgale  de  I'impression 

Includes  supplementary  r  laterii 
Comprend  du  materiel  su  pplAmentaire 

Only  edition  available/ 
Seule  Edition  disponibis 


I      I    Quality  of  print  varies/ 

I      I    Includes  supplementary  r  lateriai/ 

I — I    Only  edition  available/ 


Thel 
shall 
TINL 
whic 

Mapi 
diffe 
entir 
begii 
right 
requ 
metl 


Pages  wholly  or  partially  obscured  by  errata 
slips,  tissues,  etc.,  have  been  refilmed  to 
ensure  the  best  possible  image/ 
Les  pages  totalement  ou  partiellement 
obscurcies  par  un  feuillet  d'errata.  une  pelure, 
etc.,  ont  M  fiimdes  A  nouveau  de  fapon  A 
obtenir  la  meilleure  image  possible. 


This  item  is  filmed  at  the  reduction  ratio  checked  below/ 

Ce  document  est  filmd  au  taux  de  reduction  indiquA  ci-dessous. 

10X  14X  18X  22X 


26X 


30X 


y 


12X 


16X 


20X 


24X 


28X 


32X 


The  copy  filmed  here  has  been  reproduced  thank* 
to  the  generoeity  of: 


L'exemplaire  f ilmA  f  ut  reproduit  grAce  A  la 
gAniroait*  de: 


Scott  Library, 
Yoric  Univtraity 

The  images  appearing  here  are  the  best  quality 
possible  considering  the  condition  and  legibility 
of  the  original  copy  and  In  keeping  with  the 
filming  contract  specifications. 


Original  copies  in  printed  paper  covers  are  filmed 
beginning  w!th  the  front  cover  and  ending  on 
the  last  page  with  a  printed  or  Illustrated  impres- 
sion, or  the  back  cover  when  appropriate.  All 
other  original  copies  are  filmed  beginning  on  the 
first  page  with  a  printed  or  Illustrated  impres- 
sion, and  ending  on  the  last  page  with  a  printed 
or  illustiated  impression. 


Scott  Library, 
York  Univarsity 

Les  images  sulvantes  ont  6tA  reproduites  avec  le 
plus  grand  soln.  compte  tenu  de  la  condition  at 
de  la  nettetA  de  rexemplaire  filmA.  et  en 
conformity  avec  les  conditions  du  contrat  de 
fllmage. 

Les  exemplaires  origlnaux  dont  is  couvertute  en 
papier  est  ImprimAe  sont  fiimAs  en  commenpant 
par  le  premier  plat  et  en  terminant  solt  par  la 
dernidre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'Impression  ou  d'iilustration.  solt  par  le  second 
plat,  salon  le  cas.  Tous  les  autres  exemplaires 
origlnaux  sont  fllmAs  en  commenpant  par  la 
premlAre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'Impression  ou  d'iilustration  et  en  terminant  par 
la  dernlAre  page  qui  comporte  une  telle 
empreinte. 


The  last  recorded  frame  on  each  microfiche 
shall  contain  the  symbol  -^  (meaning  "CON- 
TINUED"), or  the  symbol  y  (meaning  "END"), 
whichever  applies. 


Un  des  symboles  suivants  apparattra  sur  la 
dernlAre  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  selon  le 
cas:  le  symbols  — »•  signlfie  "A  SUIVRE".  le 
symbols  Y  signlfie  "FIN". 


Maps,  plates,  charts,  etc..  may  be  filmed  at 
different  reduction  ratios.  Those  too  large  to  be 
entirely  included  in  one  exposure  ere  filmed 
beginning  in  the  upper  left  hand  corner,  left  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  frames  as 
required.  The  following  diegrams  illustrate  the 
method: 


Les  cartes,  planches,  tableaux,  etc.,  peuvent  Atre 
filmAs  d  des  taux  de  reduction  diffArents. 
Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  Atre 
reproduit  en  un  seui  cllchA,  11  est  fllmA  A  partir 
de  i'angie  supArieur  gauche,  de  gauche  A  droite, 
et  de  haut  en  bas,  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'images  nAcessalre.  Les  diagrammes  suivants 
illustrent  la  mAthode. 


1 

2 

3 

1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

AT   WAR  WITH  PONTIAO 


m 


DONALD   IS   UNEXrECTEULY   iJAVED    I'KUM   A   TEKRIULE  DEATH. 


^^  ^vv!{   Win,   I'oxii 


V( 


n\h:  ro'iiv\i  .u   n^i.    \  ir\[i 


'  </  /'  '*'  fi*. 


*     '        '      'I  '     /i  r.  /'  ■    h  .1  ,\ 


»■  UOs      Si'     \.       .. 


*  ..    . 


^h  if  </iti; 


■'A 


'^'^^ 


,, 


I 


'w 


-.1 


^J" 


itl 


% 


i* 


•A'.'^ 


PO.NALiJ    IS   I.N>XH.C'JE1JLY    &AV  Lp    JKuM   A   TEKKlbtIk  1)*J\TU. 


AT  WAR    WITH    PONTJAC 


OK 


THE   TOTEM    OF   THE    JiEAR 


A    7'ALI'J  or  Ui:i>((),\T  AM)  HHltSKI.M 


"\ 


KIRK    MIINROE 

AUTHOR  UV   "THK    w„n,,   ,„N(^„KUOttS."    KTC 


ILLUSTUATKD  BY  J.   FINNlSMOliE 


NEW    YORK 

CHARLES  SCRIBNER^S   SONS 

1895 


PS 


COPYRIGHT,  1895,  BV 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


J.  a  Cuihlng  &  Co.  -  Berwick  &  Smith 
Norwood  Mmi.  U.S.A. 


TABLE   OF  CONTENTS 


oil  AFTER 
I. 

II. 
III. 

IV. 

V. 

VI. 

VII. 

VIII. 

IX. 

X. 

XI. 

XII. 

XIII. 

XIV. 

XV. 

XVI. 

XVII. 

XVIII. 

XIX. 

XX. 


PAOE 


Tawtry   IIOIISK         ....... 

TlIK      Ma.IOK     (iAINS      A      FrIUNI)     ANI>     MAKES      AN 

Enemy         

Truman  Fi.A(hj's  Story 

KsrAi-E  oi-  THE  Prisoners 

A  lUiiv   LoHT  AND  Uecovbred 

The   Wilderness 

The  Major  re-enters  Active  Service 

DoNAI.n    SETS    FORTH    ON    A     I'EKIE<M  S    MiSSlON 

St.  Aiihin's  Startlin(j  Information 

PONTIAC    KECEARES    VVaR 

Major  Hester  is  taken  Prisoner 
I)oNAEi>  AT  Johnson  Castle  . 
Paymaster  Bui.len  and  his  Wonderful  Tub 
A  White  Medicine  Man        .... 
Donald  and  CHRisTie;  cement  a  Friendship 
Quickeye  and  the    "Zebra" 

A  Brave  Girl  Captive 

Surprise  and  Destruction  of  the  Boat  Brigade 
The  Totem  saves  Donald's  Life 

Bitter  Disappointment  at  Fort  Detroit 

V 


8 

15 

22 

21) 

30 

4.'J 

61 

57 

05 

72 

70 

88 

95 

103 

111 

120 

127 

136 

145 


VI 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTKR 

XXI.  In  Search  of  a  Lost  Sister  .         . 

XXII.  Amid  the  Ruins  of  Fort  Sandusky 

XXIII.  Discovered  and  Pursued  by  Savages  . 

XXIV.  Christie's  Brave  Defence  op  his  Post 
XXV.  Donald  fires  the  Mine  and  saves  the  Block- 
house     

XXVI.  FkiENDs  in  Captivity 

XXV^II.  How  the  Paymaster   navigated  Lake  Erie 

in  a  Tub 

XXVIII.  The  Paymaster  in  War-paint  and  Feathers 

XXIX.  Donald  and  the  Paymaster  escape 

XXX.  Imminent  Danger  of  the  Schooner  Gladwvn 

XXXI.  PONTIAC    RECOGNIZES   THE    TOTEM 

XXXII.  Last  Cruise  of  the  Paymaster's  Tub  . 

XXXIII.  Fort  Detroit  is  reinforced  . 

XXXIV.  Ah-mo,  the  Daughter  of  Pontiac 
XXXV.  A  Night  of  Fighting  and  Terror 

XXXVI.  Brave  Death  op  the  Old  Major  . 

XXXVII.  The  Curse  of  the  Magic  Circle  . 

XXXVIII.  A  Wintkr  in  the  Wilderness 

XXXIX.  An  Adopted  Daughter  of  the  Forest 

XL.  The  Princess  answers  Donald's  Question   . 


PAOE 

153 
161 
169 
178 

180 
105 

204 
218 
222 
230 
239 
247 
256 


271 
279 

287 
296 
305 
313 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAUB 


Donald  is  unexpectkdly  saved  from  a  Tekrihm;  Dkatii 

Frontispiece    143 


"  Like    a    flash    the    major's    strotjo    right    foot   shot 


OUT 


11 


10 


The  Indian  Chief  meditates  Treachery  to  the  English 

Officers 6C' 


"  ThESP.    TWO    PADDLED    THEIR  WAY  A<tAINST    THE    SWIFT   CLR- 

rent  of  the  Mohawk"  ......       93 

Donald  and  his  two  Companions  are    pursued   by   Ind- 
ians   173 

"The  Indian  fell   like   a    loo,  with  Bullen  and  the 


TUB    ON    top   of    him 


.     227 


pontiac    discovers    i'hat   donald  is   tattooed  with   the 

Magic  Circle  ........  246 


"Mahno    pitched   headlong    into  the   awfui,  depths  op 


THE    seething    CALDRON 


•  •  • 


.     295 


vu 


AT   WAR   WITH    PONTIAC 

m 

THE   TOTEM   OF   THE   BEAU 
A  TALE   OF  REDCOAT  AND   REDSKIN 

CHAPTER  1 


TAWTRY   HOUSE 

A  GLORIOUS  midsummer  clay  vos  drawing  to  a 
close ;  its  heat  had  passed ;  the  tall  forest  trees, 
whose  leaves  were  pleasantly  rustled  by  the  cool 
breeze  of  approaching  night,  flung  a  bridge  of  trem- 
ulous shadows  across  the  surface  of  I^och  Meg,  and 
all  nature  was  at  peace.  The  tiny  lake,  though 
bearing  an  old-world  name,  was  of  the  new  world, 
and  was  one  of  the  myriad  forest  gems  that  decked 
the  wilderness  of  western  New  York  a  century  and 
a  half  ago.  It  was  embraced  in  a  patent  recently 
granted  by  the  English  king  to  his  well-approved 
servant  Graham  Hester,  whose  bravery  and  wounds 
had  won  for  him  an  honorable  retirement,  with  the 
rank  of  major  in  a  Highland  regiment,  ere  he  was 
forty  years  of  age.  Being  thus  provided  with  an 
B  1 


• 


AT   WAR   WITH    PONTIAC 


ample  estate,  Major  Hester,  with  his  young  wife  and 
half  a  dozen  trusty  followers,  left  the  old  world  for 
the  new,  and  plunged  into  its  wilderness.  Though 
somewhat  dismayed  to  find  his  property  located  a 
score  of  leagues  beyond  that  of  his  nearest  white 
neighbor,  the  major  was  at  the  same  time  gratified 
to  discover  in  that  neighbor  his  old  friend  and  com- 
rade, William  Johnson,  tlirough  wliose  diplomacy 
the  powerful  Iroquois  tribes  of  the  Six  Nations 
were  allied  to  the  English  and  kept  at  peace. 

On  a  crest  of  land  overlooking  and  sloping  gently 
down  to  the  blue  lakelet  which  Major  Hester  had 
named  in  honor  of  his  wife,  he  erected  a  substantial 
blockhouse  of  squared  timbers.  Behind  it  were 
ranged  a  number  of  log  outbuildings  about  three 
sides  of  a  square,  in  the  centre  of  which  was  dug  a 
deep  well.  Having  thus  in  a  time  of  peace  prepared 
for  war,  the  proprietor  began  the  improvement  of  his 
estate  with  sucli  success  that,  within  three  years 
from  the  felling  of  the  first  tree,  several  acres  of 
gloomy  forest  were  replaced  by  smilinp*  fields.  A 
young  orchard  was  in  sturdy  growth,  a  small  herd  of 
cattle  found  ample  pasturage  on  the  borders  of  the 
lake,  and  on  all  sides  were  evidences  of  thrift  and 
plenty. 

The  military  instinct  of  the  proprietor  caused  all 
forest  growth  to  be  cleared  from  a  broad  space 
entirely  around  the  rude  fortress  that  lield  his  life's 
treasures ;  but  witiiin  the  enclosure  he  left  standing 


TAWTRY  HOUSE  3 

two  superb  oaks.  These  not  only  afforded  a  grateful 
shade,  but  gave  a  distinctive  feature  to  the  place 
that  was  quickly  recognized  by  the  surrounding 
Indians.  Thus  they  always  spoke  of  it  as  the  house 
of  the  two  trees,  or  two-tree  house,  a  name  that  soon 
became  "Tawtry  House,"  under  which  designation 
it  was  known  from  the  unsalted  .seas  to  the  tide 
waters  of  the  distant  Shattemuc. 

Tawtry  House  not  only  offered  a  ready  welcome 
and  bountiful  hospitality  to  the  occasional  hunter, 
trader,  or  traveller  tempted  by  business  or  curiosity 
into  that  wild  region,  but  to  the  Indians  who  still 
roamed  the  forest  at  will  and  had  established  one  of 
their  villages  at  no  great  distance  from  it.  With 
these,  by  the  exercise  of  extreme  firmness  and  an 
inflexible  honesty.  Major  Hester  succeeded  in  main- 
taining friendly  relations,  in  spite  of  their  jealousy 
of  his  presence  among  them.  At  the  same  time,  his 
wife,  through  her  gentleness  and  ready  sympathy  in 
their  times  of  sickness  or  distress,  gained  their  deep- 
seated  affection. 

Although  the  Iroquois  were  thus  at  peace  with 
their  English  neighboi-s,  there  was  a  bitter  enmity 
between  them  and  the  French  settlers  of  Canada, 
who  liad  espoused  the  cause  of  their  hereditary  foes, 
the  tribes  dwelling  along  the  St.  Lawrence  and  on 
both  shores  of  the  great  fresh-water  lakes.  Most 
prominent  of  these  were  the  Otuiwas,  Hurons  or 
Wyandots,  Ojibwas  and   Pottawattamies,  who  were 


AT   WAR    WITH    PONTIAC 


allied  in  a  defensive  league  against  their  powerful 
enemies.  Their  ancient  hatred  of  the  Iroquois,  ani- 
mated by  the  traditions  of  generations,  was  ever 
fanned  into  a  blaze  by  Jesuit  priests  eager  for  the 
triumph  of  their  faith,  French  traders  anxious  to 
monopolize  the  immensely  profitable  fur  business  of 
the  new  world,  and  French  soldiers  determined  :t 
any  cost  to  extend  the  empire  of  their  king.  Thus, 
on  one  pretext  or  another,  war  parties  were  con- 
stantly coming  and  going,  destroying  or  being  de- 
stroyed, and  it  well  behooved  the  adventurous  frontier 
settler  to  intrench  himself  strongly  behind  massive 
timbei's  and  stout  palisades. 

Under  these  conditions  and  amid  such  scenes,  in 
the  year  1743,  when  Tawtry  House  was  still  sweet- 
scented  with  odors  of  the  forest  from  which  it  had 
been  so  recently  hewn,  was  born  Donald  Hester,  as 
sturdy  a  young  American  as  ever  kicked  in  swaddling 
clothes,  and  the  hero  of  this  tale  of  the  forest. 

On  the  midsummer  evening  with  which  our  story 
opens.  Major  Hester  and  his  wife  walked,  hand  in 
liand,  beyond  the  palisades  of  their  fortress  home, 
enjoying  the  marvellous  beauty  of  their  surroundings 
and  talking  of  many  things.  Already  had  this  wil- 
derness home  become  very  dear  to  them ;  for,  repre- 
senting years  of  toil  and  privation  as  it  did,  it  was 
their  very  own  and  the  heritage  of  their  boy,  now 
two  years  of  age,  who  toddled  behind  them  in  charge 
of  a  ruddy-cheeked  Scotch  nurse.     While  they  re- 


TAWTIIY    HOUSE 


joiced  over  what  li.ad  been  accoini)lislie(l,  they  [tlaiined 
for  tlie  future,  and  discussed  the  details  of  many  pro- 
jected iinj>rovenients.  At  the  outlet  of  the  lake  a 
grist-mill  should  be  built,  and  the  low  lands  beyond 
should  be  drained  to  afford  increased  pasturage  for 
their  multiplying  herd. 

As  the-^  talked  there  came  a  sound  from  the  forest 
depths  that  caused  them  to  pause  and  listen.  Borne 
faintly  on  the  evening  breeze,  was  a  distant  firing  of 
guns,  and  they  fancied  that  it  was  accompanied  by  a 
confusion  of  yells  from  human  throats. 

"•Oh,  Graham!  what  can  it  mean?"  exclaimed 
Mrs.  Hester,  as  she  clasped  her  husband's  arm  and 
glanced  instinctively  back,  to  make  sure  of  the  safety 
of  her  child. 

"  Nothing  that  need  alarm  you,  my  dear,"  answered 
the  major,  reassuringly.  "  It  is  only  a  token  of  some 
jollification  among  our  Indian  I'iends:  a  war  dance, 
or  a  scalp  dance,  or  the  advent  among  them  of  a  new 
lot  of  wretched  captives,  or  something  of  that  kind. 
I  remember  Truman  mentioning,  more  than  a  week 
ago,  that  another  war  party  had  gone  out.  I  do  wish 
though  that  the  Senecas  would  take  it  into  their 
heads  to  move  their  village  farther  away.  I  used  to 
think  five  miles  quite  a  respectable  distance,  but 
now  —  " 

"  I  would  that  this  horrible  fighting  were  ended," 
interrupted  Mrs.  Hester.  "  Will  not  the  time  ever 
come,  Graham,  when  these  poor  heathen  will  cease 


AT   WAR    WITH    I'ONTIAC 


I 


from  their  drtiadful  wars,  unci  live  at  peace  with  each 
other,  like  civilized  heings?" 

"  Like  civilized  beings,  my  dear  ?  "  laughed  Major 
Hester.  "Yes,  I  think  1  may  safely  [)ro[)hesy  that  if 
the  time  ever  comes  when  those  nations  which  we 
call  civilized  give  over  lighting,  then  even  the  red 
Indians  may  be  [)crsuaded  to  follow  their  example. 
As  for  their  methods  of  warfare,  they  are  but  the 
counterparts  of  those  practised  by  our  own  savage 
ancestors  a  few  centuries  ago ;  while  in  their  torture 
of  captives  they  are  only  reproducing  the  acts  of 
civilized  Romans,  mediteval  knights,  and  the  Holy 
Inquisition.  It  is  not  long  since,  even  in  England, 
Elizabeth  Gaunt  was  burned  to  death  at  Tyburn  for 
yielding  to  tho  dictates  of  compassion  and  giving 
shelter  to  a  political  offender ;  nor  are  the  cries  for 
mercy  of  the  martyrs  tortured  at  Smithfield  stakes^ 
yet  forgotten.  The  burning  of  New  England  witches 
is  recent  history,  while  the  dismal  record  of  devilish 
tortures  inflicted  by  white  men  upon  Indian  captives 
is  unbroken  from  the  days  of  Columbus.  Did  not 
Frontenac  cause  an  Iroquois  warrior  to  be  burned 
alive  in  order  to  terrorize  his  fellows?     Did  not —  " 

The  honest  major  v/as  so  warmed  to  his  subject 
that  he  might  have  discoursed  upon  it  indefinitely, 
had  he  not  been  startlingly  interrupted.  He  and  his 
wife  were  retracing  their  steps  toward  the  house,  and, 
as  before,  the  Scotch  maid,  with  her  toddling  charge, 
was  some  paces  behind  them.     At  a  wild  scream 


A(VC^-^Y' 


,  U.\. 


TAWTKY    HOUSE  f 

from  the  ^iil  thosi;  in  lulviiiice  turned  in  time  to  see 
the  llyin^  form  of  a  young  Indiim,  who  luul  just 
emerged  from  the  near-hy  forest,  fall  headlong  at  her 
feet.  His  naked  body  was  pierced  by  wounds,  and 
his  strength  was  evidently  exhausted.  As  he  fell,  a 
second  Indian,  in  whose  right  hand  gleamed  a  deadly 
tomahawk,  leaped  from  the  woodbind  shadows,  and, 
with  a  yell  of  triumi)h,  bounded  toward  his  intended 
victim.     lie  was  close  y  followed  by  two  others. 

As  the  Scotch  girl  stood  motionless  with  terror, 
little  Donald,  evidently  believing  this  to  be  some  new 
form  of  game  provided  for  his  especial  edification,  ran 
forward  with  a  gurgle  of  delight,  stumbled,  and  fell 
directly  across  the  head  of  the  prostrate  Indian.  But 
for  the  child's  sudden  movement  the  keen-bladed 
hatchet  in  the  hand  of  the  foremost  pursuer,  already 
drawji  back  for  the  deadly  throw,  would  have  sped 
on  its  fatal  mission. 

With  a  ci'y  of  anguish  Mrs.  Hester  sprang  toward 
her  baby ;  but  quicker  than  she,  with  a  leap  like  that 
of  a  panther,  Major  Hester  gained  the  spot  first, 
snatched  up  his  child,  and,  over  the  body  of  the 
young  Indian,  sternly  confronted  hh  scowling  pur- 
suers. 


ciiAPTKu  rr 

THK   MA.JOIt    (iAINS    A    FIllKND    AND   MAKKS    AN 

KNEiMY 


Foil  some  seconds  the  tliree  Indiiins,  who  were 
j)jintiiig  liejivily  from  the  ett'eet  of  tluiii'  h)ng  chase 
thi'oiigli  the  forest,  j^azed  in  silence  Jit  tlie  white 
man  wlio  witli  tlie  child  in  Ins  arms  so  fearlessly  con- 


fronted til 


Then  the  f< 


►f  th 


il- 


•emost 

looKing  savage  wno  ooie  tne  name  ot  iviann^  (tne 
Diver),  motioned  the  major  aside  with  a  hanghty 
wave  of  tlui  hand,  saying:  "  l.-et  the  white  man  step 
from  the  path  of  Mahng,  that  he  may  kill  this  Ottawa 
dog  who  thought  to  escape  the  vengeance  of  the 
Senecas/' 

Without  retreating  an  inch  from  his  position,  and 
still  holding  the  little  Donald,  who  crowed  with 
delight  at  sight  of  the  Indians,  Major  Hester  re- 
plied :  — 

"  Not  even  if  the  whole  Seneca  tribe  demanded  it 
would  1  allow  this  man  to  be  murdered  in  the  pres- 
ence of  my  wife.  Nor,  since  my  child  has  saved 
his  life,  will  I  deliver  him  into  your  hands  for 
torture.  He  has  sought  my  protection,  and  it  shall 
be  granted  him  until  he  is  proved  unworthy  of  it. 

8 


THE    MA.TOU   GAINS   A    KKIKNI)  0 

Lei  tlio  ssiclioms  of  your  liilx)  Lay  this  grievance 
bot'oie  Sir  William  /ohiison.  If  the  white  chief 
decides  that  the  [irisoner  must  be  restored  to  tliem, 
and  so  orders,  then  will  I  give  him  up,  but  not 
Ijefore.  Now  go,  ere  my  young  men,  who  are 
already  approaching,  reach  this  jilace  and  drive  you 
from  it  with  whips,  like  yelping  curs." 

Being  sufficiently  acquainted  with  the  English 
language  to  comprehend  the  purport  of  t'  ose  re- 
marks, the  scowling  savage  made  answer:  — 

"Who  gave  the  white  man  the  right  to  step  be- 
tween an  Indian  and  an  Indian  ?  This  land  is  Indian 
land.  The  long  house  in  which  the  white  man 
dwells  belongs  to  the  Indians,  as  did  the  forest 
trees  from  which  it  is  built.  If  the  Indian  says 
stay,  then  may  you  stay;  if  he  says  go,  then  must 
you  go.  Let  one  of  your  young  men  but  lift  a  hand 
against  Mahng,  and  this  ground  that  has  known  the 
tread  of  the  white  man  shall  know  it  no  more  for- 
ever. His  house  shall  become  a  hooting  place  for 
owls,  and  Seneca  squaws  shall  gather  the  harvest  of 
his  fields.  Restore  then  to  Mahng  his  prisoner,  that 
there  may  be  no  bad  blood  between  him  and  his  white 
brother." 

"Never,"  replied  Major  Hester,  who  was  suffi- 
ciently versed  in  the  Indian  tongue  to  catch  the 
general  drift  of  these  remarks. 

He  had  hardly  uttered  the  word  ere  Mahng  stooped, 
darted  forward  with  deadly  intent  like  a  wild  ser- 


10 


AT    \VA|{    Willi    IMJNIIAI' 


pent,  iiiid  summIiI  [n  Imiv  liis  ^draiiiiii^'  liiitcht'L  in 
tlui  liiiiiii  nl"  liis  still   piostiiiti)   U)v. 

Like  ii  lliisli  till!  major's  stroiit;  ri^'lit  foot  shot 
out;  llir  licavy,  liol>-iiaiIt'(l  walkiii^'^-sliou  caught  the 
savai^d  s()Uart'Iy  un(h'r  th(.'  »liiii;  ht;  was  lift«<l  from 
the  giouud,  ami,  falling  on  his  hack,  lay  as  one  w;io 
is  (lead. 

The  jcmaining  savages  made  as  thougli  to  take 
instant  vengeance;  for  this  deadly  insult  and,  as  they 
imagined,  murder  of  their  leader,  hut  their  impulse 
was  checked  hy  a  stern  command  from  hehind. 
Cilancing  in  that  direction,  they  saw  themselves 
covered  hy  a  long,  hrown  ritUj-harrel,  held  hy  a  white 
man  clad  in  the  lcatlu;rn  costume  of  the  bjiekwoods. 
At  the  same  time  half  a  dozen  laborers  who,  home- 
returning  from  the  fields,  had  noticed  that  something 
unusual  was  taking  i)lace,  came  hurrying  to  the 
scene  of  disturbance.  Wisely  concluding  that  un- 
der these  circumstances  discretion  was  the  better  part 
of  valor,  the  Senecas  i)icked  up  their  helpless  com- 
I'ade  and,  retreating  as  rai)idly  as  their  burden  would 
permit,  disappeared  amid  the  darkening  shadows  of 
the  forest. 

The  tableau  presented  at  this  moment  by  those 
who  remained  was  that  of  the  tall  major  standing 
above  the  prostrate  form  of  the  escaped  captive,  hold- 
ing his  laughing  child  in  one  arm  while  his  trem- 
bling wife  clung  to  the  other.  Close  beside  them 
knelt  the  terror-stricken  maid,  with  her  face  bur- 


I 


I 

I 


■f 


M 


I* 


S 


lu'l   in 

it  slioi 
hi  tl»e 
I  from 

IC  WHO 

()  tiiko 
IS  thuy 
inimlsc 
)ehiiul. 
nselves 
I  white 
woods. 
,  l)omc- 
icthing 
to   the 
lat  un- 
"  or  part 
s  corn- 
would 
ows  of 

those 
mding 
;,  hold- 
trem- 
them 
\g  bur- 


LIKE   A    FLASH    TUK    MAJoR's   SIKONti    KK.HT    I'UU  1"    SllUl   OUT. 


THE   MAJOR  GAINS  A   FRIEND 


II 


ied  in  lier  hands,  .md  a  few  paces  in  the  rear  were 
grouped  the  laborers,  armed  with  various  implements 
of  toil.  In  the  foreground,  Truman  Flagg,  the  hun- 
ter, white  by  birth,  Indian  by  association  and  educa- 
tion, leaned  on  his  rifle  and  gazed  silently  after  the 
disappearing  savages.  As  they  vanished  in  the 
forest,  he  remarked  quietly :  — 

"  'Twas  handsomely  done,  major,  and  that  scoun- 
drel Mahng  deserved  sill  he  got.  But  ef  he's  as  dead 
as  he  looks,  I'm  fearful  that  kick  may  get  you  into 
trouble  with  the  tribe,  though  he's  not  a  Seneca  by 
blood,  nor  overly  popular  at  that." 

"You  know  him,  then?"  queried  the  major. 

"Not  edzackly  what  you  might  call  know  him; 
but  I  know  something  of  him." 

"Very  well;  come  up  to  the  house  and  tell  me 
what  you  know,  while  we  consider  this  business. 
Some  of  you  men  carry  this  poor  fellow  to  the  tool- 
house,  where  we  will  see  what  can  be  done  for  him. 
Now,  my  dear,  the  evening  meal  awaits  us,  and  I 
for  one  shall  partake  of  it  with  a  keener  relish  that 
this  unfortunate  affair  has  terminated  so  happily." 

"I  pray  God,  Graham,  that  it  may  be  terminated," 
replied  Mrs.  Hester,  fervently,  as  she  took  the  child 
from  its  father's  arms  and  strained  him  to  her  bosom. 

The  whole  of  this  dramatic  scene  had  transpired 
within  the  space  of  a  few  minutes,  and  wh^n  the 
men  approached  to  lift  the  prostrate  Indian  they 
found  him  so  recovered  from   his  exhaustion  as  to 


12 


AT   WAR   WITH   PONTIAC 


be  able  to  stand,  and  walk  feebly  with  the  aid  of 
some  support. 

Major  Hester's  first  duty,  after  conveying  his 
wife  and  child  to  the  shelter  of  the  blockhous  , 
was  to  visit  the  guest  so  strangely  thrust  upon 
his  hospitality  and  inquire  into  his  condition. 
He  found  him  lying  on  a  pallet  of  straw,  over 
which  a  blanket  had  been  thrown,  and  conversing 
with  Truman  Flagg  in  an  Indian  tongue  un- 
known to  the  proprietor.  The  hunter  was  bath- 
ing the  stranger's  wounds  with  a  gentleness  that 
seemed  out  of  keeping  with  his  own  rude  aspect, 
and  administering  occasional  draughts  of  cool  well 
water,  that  appeared  to  revive  the  sufferer  as  though 
it  were  the  very  elixir  of  life. 

"What  do  you  make  of  the  case?"  asked  the 
major,  as  he  watched  Truman  Flagg  apply  to  each 
of  the  many  gashes  in  the  Indian's  bod^  a  healing 
salve  made  of  bear's  grease  mixed  with  the  fra- 
grant resin  of  the  balsam  fir.  "  Will  he  pull  through, 
think  you?" 

"Bless  you,  yes,  major!  He'll  pull  through 
all  right;  for,  bad  as  his  hurts  look,  none  of  em's 
dangerous.  They  warn't  meant  to  be.  He  was 
nighest  dead  from  thirst.  You  see,  he's  been 
under  torture  most  of  the  day,  without  nary  a  drop 
to  wash  down  his  last  meal,  which  war  a  chunk 
of  salted  meat  give  to  him  yesterday  e\ening. 
He'll  pick  up  fast  enough  now,  though.      All  he 


w^. 


3. 


■4 


THE  MAJOR  GAINS  A  FRIEND 


13 


the 

each 

laling 

fra- 
►ugh, 

rough 
em's 
was 
been 
drop 
Ihunk 
iiing. 
11  he 


needs  to  make  him  as  good  as  new  is  food  and 
drink,  and  a  night's  rest.  After  that  you'll  find 
him  ready  to  go  on  the  war-path  again,  ef  so  be 
he's  called  to  do  it.  He's  the  pluckiest  Injun 
ever  I  see,  and  I've  trailed,  fust  and  last,  most 
of  the  kinds  there  is.  Ef  he  warn't,  I  wouldn't 
be  fuss  in'  over  him  now,  for  his  tribe  is  mostly 
pizen.  But  true  grit's  true  grit,  whether  you  find 
it  in  white  or  red,  and  a  man  what  values  hisself 
as  a  man,  is  bound  to  appreciate  it  whenever  its 
trail  crosses  his'n." 

"A  sentiment  in  which  I  must  heartily  concur," 
assented  the  major.  "A  brave  enemy  is  always 
preferable  to  a  cowardly  friend.  But  is  this  Indian 
an  enemy?     To  what  tribe  does  he  belong?" 

"Ottaway,"  was  the  laconic  answer. 

"  Ottawa ! "  exclaimed  the  major,  greatly  dis- 
concerted. "Why,  the  Ottawas  are  the  firmest 
allies  of  France  and  the  most  inveterate  enemies 
of  the  English.  Are  you  certain  he  is  an  Ot- 
tawa?" 

"Sartain,"  replied  the  hunter,  with  a  silent 
laugh  at  the  other's  evident  dismay.  "And  not 
only  that,  but  he's  the  best  fighter  and  best  man 
in  the  whole  Ottaway  tribe.  They  call  him 
Songa,  the  strong  heart,  and  I  consate  Sir  Will- 
iam would  be  passing  glad  to  exchange  one  hun- 
dred pounds  of  the  king's  money  for  his  scalp 
to-morrow." 


j; 


If! 


li  AT  WAR   WITH   PONTIAC 

"Why  don't  you  earn  it,  then?"  asked  the 
other.  "Surely  one  hundred  pounds  could  not  be 
gained  more  easily,  nor  is  it  a  sum  of  money  to  be 
despised  even  by  an  independent  American  woods- 
ranger  like  yourself." 

For  answer  the  hunter  rose  slowly  to  his  full 
height,  and,  holding  a  candle  al)o^'^e  his  head,  so 
that  its  light  shone  full  on  the  proprietor's  face, 
regarded  him  intently  for  a  score  of  seconds. 

"You  don't  mean  it.  Major  Hester!  Thank 
God,  you  don't  mean  it!  for  your  face  belies  your 
words,  and  proves  you  to  be  an  honest  man,"  he 
said  at  length.  "Ef  I  thought  you  meant  what 
you  just  said,  and  was  one  to  tempt  a  poor  man 
to  commit  a  murder  for  the  sake  of  gold,  I  would 
never  again  sit  at  your  table,  nor  set  foot  in  your 
house,  nor  look  upon  your  face,  nor  think  of  you 
save  with  the  contempt  an  honest  man  must  always 
feel  for  a  villain." 

"No,  Truman.  I  did  not  mean  what  I  said," 
replied  the  major,  holding  out  a  hand  that  was 
heartily  grasped  by  the  other.  "I  spoke  out  of 
curiosity  to  hear  your  reply,  though  I  might  have 
known  it  would  have  the  ^ing  of  true  steel.  Now 
I  must  return  to  my  wife,  and  if  you  will  join  us, 
after  you  have  done  what  you  can  for  this  poor 
fellovv^,  we  will  consult  concerning  the  situation, 
for  it  is  no  light  thing  to  hold  Songa  the  Ottawa 
as  prisoner  in  one's  house." 


d    the 

lot  be 

to  be 

voods- 


s  full 
ad,  so 
i  face, 

• 

Thank 
3  your 
Q,"  he 

what 
►r  man 
would 
1  your 
)f  you 

ways 

said," 
was 

)ut  of 
have 
Now 

in  us, 
poor 

ation, 

ttawa 


CHAPTER   III 


TRU.MAN    FLAGG  S   STORY 


Truman  Flagg  was  a  son  of  one  of  those  hardy 
New  England  families  which,  ever  pusliing  into 
the  wilderness  in  the  extreme  van  of  civilization, 
were  the  greatest  sufferers  from  the  forays  of 
French  and  Indians,  who  every  now  and  then 
swept  down  from  Canada,  like  packs  of  fierce 
Northern  wolves.  In  one  of  these  raids  his  par- 
ents were  killed,  and  the  lad  was  borne  away  to 
be  adopted  among  the  Caughnawagas,  who  dwelt  on 
the  St.  Lawrence,  not  far  from  Montreal.  With 
these  Indians  he  lived  for  several  years,  and  hav- 
ing a  natural  taste  for  languages,  acquired,  during 
this  time,  a  fair  knowledge  of  the  tongues  of 
most  of  the  Northern  tribes,  as  well  as  a  smat- 
tering of  French.  He  also  became  well  versed 
in  woodcraft,  and  so  thoroughly  Indian  in  ap- 
pearance and  habit  that  when  he  was  again 
captured  by  a  marauding  party  of  Maquas,  or  Mo- 
hawks, it  was  not  detected  that  he  was  of  white 
blood  until  he  was  stripped  for  the  ordeal  of  the 
gantlet,    in    an     Iroquois     village.       His     identity 

15 


w 


AT  WAR   WITH    PONTIAC 


III 


1  !' 


being  thus  discovered,  his  latest  eaj)tors  washed 
from  liim  his  Caughnawaga  paint,  repainted  and 
reclad  him  in  Mohawk  fashion,  and  treated  him 
in  all  respects  like  a  son  of  the  tribe.  Having 
thus  exchanged  one  form  of  Indian  life  for  an- 
other, Truman  Flagg  remained  among  the  Iroquois 
long  enough  to  master  their  languages,  and  re- 
ceive the  name  of  Honosagetha,  or  the  man  of 
much  talk.  Finally,  he  attracted  the  attention 
of  Sir  William  Johnson,  and  became  one  of  the 
general's  interpreters,  as  well  as  a  counsellor  in 
Indian  affairs.  After  awhile  the  forest  ranger 
so  fretted  against  the  restraints  of  civilization 
and  town  life,  as  he  termed  that  of  the  frontier 
settlement  clustered  about  Johnson  Hall  on  the 
lower  Mohawk,  that  when  Major  Hester,  search- 
ing for  an  experienced  guide  and  hunter,  offered 
him  the  position,  he  gladly  accepted  it.  Since 
then,  save  when  his  services  were  required  as  a 
messenger  between  Tawtry  House  and  the  river 
settlements,  he  had  been  free  to  come  and  go  as 
he  pleased,  provided  he  kept  his  employer  fairly 
well  provided  with  all  varieties  of  game  in  its 
season.  Thus  he  was  able  to  spend  much  of  his 
time  in  roaming  the  forest,  passing  from  one 
Indian  village  to  another,  keeping  himself  posted 
on  all  subjects  of  interest  to  these  wilderness  com- 
,munities,  and  ever  watching,  with  eagle  eye,  over 
the    safety    of    the    Tawtry    House    inmates.      He 


•I 


H 

>■-* 

•■.-.'" 

washed 

3(1  and 

^ 

3d  him 

's! 

Slaving 

■  ''  n 

'or  an- 

■•"vol 

I'oquois 

,nd   re- 

nan   of 

'  '""J 

tention 

J? 

of   the 

1  J* 

Uor   in 

;i 

ranger 

ization 

H 

rontier 

,■ 

on    the 

M 

search- 

offered 

'1 

Since 

;^ 

1  as  a 

1  river 

go  as 

:• 

fairly 

^ 

in   its 

■? 

of   his 

1    one 

posted 

"* "» 

3  com- 

■  ■  \ 
■1 

,  over 

He 

.  vi 

TRUMAN   FLAGG'S  STORY 


17 


was  a  simple-hearted  fellow,  of  sterling  lionesty, 
and  a  keen  intelligence,  that  enabled  him  to  ab- 
sorb information  on  all  subjects  that  came  within 
his  range,  as  a  sponge  absorbs  water.  Althougli 
of  slender  build,  his  muscles  were  of  iron,  his 
eyesight  was  that  of  a  hawk,  and  as  a  ri He-shot 
he  had  no  superior  among  all  the  denizens  of  the 
forest,  white  or  red.  During  three  years  of  mu- 
tual helpfulness,  a  strong  friendship  had  sprung 
up  l)etween  this  son  of  the  forest  and  the  soldier, 
whose  skilled  valor  on  old-world  battle-fields  had 
won  the  approbation  of  a  king.  Now,  therefore, 
the  latter  awaited  with  impatience  the  coming  of 
the  hunter,  whose  advice  he  deemed  essential  be- 
fore deciding  upon  any  plan  of  action  in  the  present 
crisis. 

When  Truman  Flagg  appeared,  and  reported 
his  patient  to  be  sleeping  soundly  after  having 
eaten  a  hearty  supper,  the  major  asked  what  he 
knew  concerning  the  young  Ottawa,  and  was  an- 
swered as  follows :  — 

"As  fur  as  I  kin  make  out,  major,  Mahng,  the 
fellow  you  laid  out  so  neatly  awhile  ago,  is  a 
Jibway,  while  Songa  is  an  Ottaway?  and  son  of 
the  head  chief,  or  medicine  man,  of  the  Metai,  a 
magic  circle  of  great  influence  among  tlie  lake 
tribes.  Not  long  ago  both  Songa  and  Mahng 
courted  a  young  Jibway  squaw,  who  was  said  to 
be  the   handsomest   gal   of  her   tribe.      They   liad 


18 


AT   WAR    WITH    PONTIAC 


some  hot  fights  over  her;  but  from  the  firat  she 
favored  Songa,  and  so,  of  course,  tlie  other  fellow 
had  no  show.  Finally,  Songa  married  her  and 
carried  her  away  to  the  Ottavvay  villages.  On 
this,  Mahng  swore  to  be  revenged  on  both  of  'em, 
and  as  the  Jibways  and  Ottaways  is  good  friends, 
he  come  and  jined  the  Senecas  on  purpose  to  get 
a  chance  at  Songa.  Here,  seeing  as  he  belongs  to 
the  totem  of  the  wolf,  which  is  strong  among  the 
Senecas,  and  as  he  isn't  in  noways  a  coward  nor 
lacking  in  good  fighting  sense,  he  soon  made  a 
name  for  himself  as  a  warrior,  and  could  raise  a 
party  agin  the  Ottaways  any  time  he  chose. 
Most  of  the  fighting  that's  been  going  on  since 
you  came  here  has  been  stirred  up  by  Mahng,  and 
ef  the  whites  gets  drawed  into  it,  it'll  be  his 
doings.  With  all  his  smartness  he  never  met  up 
with  Songa,  or  leastways  never  got  the  best  of 
him,  till  this  last  time,  when,  fur  as  I  kin  make 
out,  they  caught  him  and  his  squaw  and  their 
young  one  travelling  from  one  Ottaway  village  to 
another.  They  say  Songa  made  the  prettiest  fight 
ever  was  seen,  killed  half  a  dozen  of  Mahng 's 
party,  and  held  'em  all  off  till  his  squaw  had  made 
good  her  escape  with  the  child.  Then  he  give  up, 
and  they  brought  him  in.  They  waited  till  he 
got  well  of  his  hurts,  and  then  they  set  out  to  kill 
him  by  as  mean  and  devilish  a  lot  of  tortures  as 
ever  I  see." 


TRUMAN  FLAGG'S  STORY 


19 


"You  don't  mean  to  say/'  interrupted  the  other, 
"that  you  were  one  of  the  spectators  at  a  scene 
of  torture,  and  did  nothing  to  prevent  it?" 

"Sartain  I  do,  major.  It's  part  tf  my  business 
to  see  such  things.  It's  also  part  of  my  business 
to  keep  the  peace,  so  fur  as  I  kin,  betwixt  Injuns 
and  whites,  which  it  woukl  have  been  broke  very 
sudden  ef  I  had  interfered  with  an  Injun  execu- 
tion of  an  Injun  captive.  They  was  only  acting 
'cording  to  their  light,  and  I  acted  'cording  to 
mine." 

"I  suppose  you  are  right,"  assented  the  major, 
"but  T  am  glad  I  was  not  in  your  place,  and  sorry 
that  the  savages  should  have  had  the  encourage- 
ment of  your  presence  at  one  of  their  devilish 
orgies." 

"They've  had  that  many  a  time,  major,  when  I 
couldn't  help  myself,"  replied  the  hunter,  soberly. 
"They  didn't  get  any  encouraging  from  me  this 
day,  though,  for  they  didn't  see  me.  I  was  too 
snugly  hid  for  that.  But  to  make  a  short  story, 
they  tormented  that  poor  chap  in  one  way  and 
another  until  I  thought  he  must  be  done  for,  and 
all  the  time  he  never  uttered  a  sound  except  to 
jeer  at  'em,  nor  quivered  an  eyelash.  Once,  when 
they  saw  he  was  nearly  dead  with  thirst,  they 
loosed  his  hands  and  gave  him  a  bowl  of  cool 
spring  water;  but  as  he  lifted  it  to  his  lips,  they 
dashed    it    to   the    ground.     After  that   they   held 


20 


AT   WAR    WITH    I'ONTIAC 


I 

1 1 


another  l)owl  of  wjiter  closo  to  his  fiu^e,  hut  he 
never  gratified  'em  hy  making  a  move  to  try  and 
drink  it. 

"  Finally,  they  made  a  circle  of  dry  wood  around 
him  and  set  fire  to  it.  Then  I  thought  it  was  all 
u[)  with  the  poor  fellow,  and  his  torment  would 
soon  l)e  over.  I  was  just  saying  this  to  myself  when 
something  swift  and  still  .as  a  shadder  hrushed 
past  the  place  where  I  was  hid.  I  had  just  time 
to  see  that  it  was  a  woman,  when  she  cleared  the 
woods  like  a  flash,  ran  to  the  stake,  never  minding 
the  flames  more'n  ef  they'd  been  a  shower  of  rain, 
and  ent  Songa  free. 

"He  gave  a  great  leap,  like  a  deer,  out  of  the 
ring  of  fire  that  was  slowly  roasting  him,  knocked 
down  two  or  three  warriors  that  stood  in  his  path, 
and  gained  the  woods,  with  her  close  beside  him, 
almost  uefore  any  one  knew  what  had  happened. 
A  score  of  rifle  balls  whizzed  after  them,  but  they 
wasn't  hit,  and  they  had  a  clear  start  of  a  hun- 
dred yards  afore  the  crowd  took  after  'em.  Mahng 
was  the  only  one  who  could  keep  'em  in  sight, 
and  when  they  separated  at  the  foot  of  the  lake, 
he  taking  up  one  side,  and  she  the  other,  Mahng 
trailed  the  one  he  hated  most,  which  was  Songa." 

"  How  did  you  happen  to  see  all  this  ?  "  inquired 
the  major.  "  They  must  have  passed  from  view  of 
your  hiding-place  very  quickly." 

"Oh,  I  jined  in  the  hunt,  too,"  replied  Truman 


TUUMAN    KLAGG'S   STORY 


it 


)) 


luired 
)w  of 

iman 


m 


Flagg.  *'I  thoiiglit  some  one  iniglit  liiid  it  liiindy 
to  htivo  1110  'round.  IJesides,  I  was  fuuliiig  cniniped 
iiiid  in  nuud  of  a  bit  of  exeiciso." 

"Well,  it  was  handy  to  have  you  around/'  said 
the  major,  heartily,  "and  it  will  be  long  ere  I  for- 
get the  gratitude  with  whieh  I  saw  you  at  that 
critical  moment.  I  am  thankful,  too,  that  the 
poor  fellow  escaped  and  sought  the  refuge  lie  did, 
though  what  I  am  to  do  with  him  is  more  than  I 
can  imagine.  I  wish  with  all  my  heart  that  lie 
were  well  on  his  way  toward  the  Ottawa  villages. 
But  who  was  the  woman  who  rescued  him  so  splen- 
didly, and  what  do  you  suppose  became  of  her?" 

"He  claims  her  as  his  scjuaw,"  replied  the  hunter, 
"and  ef  she's  where  I  left  her,  she's  setting  watch- 
ing him  at  this  moment." 

"You  don't  mean  it!  How  can  she  be?"  cried 
the  major,  jumping  to  liis  feet. 

"I  do  mean  it;  and  she  can  be  beside  him  be- 
cause I  let  her  in  myself,  not  half  an  hour  ago, 
and  locked  the  door  after  me  when  I  come  out." 

"Then  come  with  me  at  once,  for  I  must  go 
and  see  them,"  exclaimed  the  proprietor,  starting 
toward  the  door. 

"Hold  a  bit,  major.  Don'  you  think  that 
maybe  Songa  has  earned  a  few  hours  of  uninter- 
rupted rest  ?"  asked  the  hunter. 

"Yes,  you  are  right,  he  certainly  has,"  replied 
the  major,  as  he  again  sank  into  his  chair. 


CHAPTKIl   IV 


ESCAI'K   OF   TIIIO   rUIHONKRS 

Mrs.  Hkstek,  wlio  had  been  putting  her  child 
to  sleep,  entered  the  room  in  time  to  hear  the 
conclusion  of  the  hunter's  story,  whicli  she  found 
intensely  interesting.  Like  her  luisband,  she  was 
filled  with  a  desire  to  see  the  brave  woman  who, 
daring  all  for  the  man  she  loved,  had,  alone  and 
unaided,  saved  him  from  a  liorrible  fate.  With 
him,  though,  she  agreed  that  it  would  be  cruel  to 
disturb  the  much-needed  and  br.ively  earned  rest 
of  their  guests.  Thus  it  was  decided  that  they 
should  wait  until  morning  before  visiting  those 
whom  Fate  had  so  strangely  thrust  upon  their 
hospitality.  In  the  meantime,  wr^re  they  guests 
or  prisoners,  and  what  was  to  be  done  with  them? 

Long  and  animated  was  the  discussion  of  these 
questions,  which  were  finally  settled  by  the  major, 
who  said:  "They  are  both.  For  this  night  they 
are  our  guests.  To-morrow  morning  I  shall  set  a 
guard  over  them,  for  their  protection  as  well  as 
our  own.  Thus  they  will  become  prisoners.  If 
by  the  time  the  Ottawa  warrior  is  sufficiently 
recovered  of  his  wounds  to  travel,  I  have  received 

22 


KSCATK    UK    rilK    rUISONKHS 


23 


child 

ir   the 

^ 

found 

1 

e   was 

7 

who, 

le  and 

'  is 

With 

uel  to 

iL 

i  rest 

i  they 

i9 

those 

their 

juests 

them? 

these 

najor, 

they 

set  a 

jll  as 

»s 

3.       If 

1 

ently 

eived 

no  word  to  tht;  loiitiiiry  from  .lolinson,  I  shsill  let 
him  ^'(N  Jiiid  l)i<l  liiin  (»<»d  speiMl.  If,  however,  1 
sliould  rt'ci;ive  onU'is  to  contintio  to  hohl  him,  or 
oven  to  (U'livor  him  over  to  liis  savage  captors, 
wliicli  (Jod  forhid,  1  can  conceive  of  no  altcrnfi- 
tivc  save  tliat  of  obedience." 

"Oh,  (jiahani!  Vou  wouldn't,  you  couldn't, 
deliver  that  splendid  Indian  and  his  brave  wife 
to  tlie  awful  fate  that  would  await  them!"  cried 
Mrs.  IIcHtcr. 

"1  don't  think  that  I  couhl  give  up  the  woman 
nor  that  I  would  ho  required  to,  seeing  that  she 
was  not  a  prisoner  of  war;  but  with  the  man  it 
is  different.  He  is  a  chief  in  the  tribe  who  have 
proved  themselves  most  inveterate  foes  of  the 
English,  and,  from  what  Flagg  tells  me,  I  should 
judge  a  man  of  extraordinary  ability.  His  death 
at  this  time  might  prove  the  future  salvation  of 
hundreds  of  white  men,  women,  and  children.  To 
allow  him  to  escape  may  involve  us  in  war.  The 
decision  either  way  will  be  fraught  with  far-reach- 
ing results,  and  I  am  thankful  that  it  does  not 
rest  with  me.  Whatever  Johnson  may  order  in  a 
case  of  this  kind  must  be  obeyed,  without  regard 
to  our  private  views,  for  he  is  the  accredited  rep- 
resentative, in  this  section,  of  the  king,  God  bless 
him,  whom  we  are  sworn  to  serve.  At  any  rate, 
we  may  rest  easy  this  night,  and  for  two  yet  to 
come;    for,  even  if  the  Senecas  lay  this  grievance 


24 


AT    WAR    WITH    rONTlAC 


■    :,  I 


before  the  governor,  it  must  still  be  several  days  ere 
I  can  hear  from  him." 

"Oh  clear  I"  sighed  Mrs.  Hester,  "I  suppose 
you  are  right,  Graham,  of  coui*se,  but  the  contin- 
gency is  too  dreadful  to  contemplate.  I  believe  I 
would  even  go  so  far  as  to  help  these  poor  people 
to  escape,  and  so  defy  the  governor,  rather  than 
allow  them  to  be  given  up;  for  I  know  the  wife 
will  insist  on  sharing  her  husband's  fate,  what- 
ever it  may  be." 

"I  don't  believe  you  would,  my  dear,  if  you 
first  paused  to  consider  what  effect  your  action 
might  have  upon  the  future  of  your  own  boy," 
replied  her  husband,  gravely. 

Before  retiring  for  the  night  the  major  and 
Truman  Flagg  cautiously  approached  the  tool- 
house,  and,  listening  at  its  single  open  window, 
which  was  merely  a  slit  cut  through  the  logs  at 
the  back  to  serve  as  a  loop-hole  for  musketry, 
plainly  heard  the  heavy  breathing  that  assured 
them  of  the  safety  of  the  prisoners.  Then  the 
major  bade  his  companion  good-night,  and  turned 
toward  his  own  quarters.  He  had  gone  but  a 
few  steps  when  the  hunter  overtook  him  and 
handed  him  the  key  of  the  tool-house,  saying  that 
he  should  feel  more  at  ease  with  it  in  the  propri- 
etor's possession.  As  they  again  separated,  he 
remarked  that  being  so  very  weary,  he  feared  he 
should  sleep  late  the  following  morning. 


ESCAPE  OF  THE   PRISONERS 


26 


In  spite  of  this,  Truman  Flagg  was  up  and 
stirring  while  it  yet  wanted  an  hour  of  dawn. 
Lighting  a  small  dark-lantern  and  moving  with 
the  utmost  caution,  he  made,  from  various  places, 
a  collection  of  food,  clothing,  and  arms. 

"It's  what  the  major  in  his  heart  wishes  done, 
I'm  sartain,"  he  muttered  to  himself,  "and  what 
the  madam  would  never  forgive  me  ef  I  left 
undone.     I  could  see  that  in  her  face." 

Having  completed  his  preparations,  the  hunter 
stepped  lightly  across  the  parade  ground,  as  the 
major  called  the  enclosed  square,  and  opened  the 
tool-house  door,  which  he  had  softly  unlocked,  in 
anticipation  of  this  time,  the  moment  before  hand- 
ing its  key  to  Major  Hester.  Carefully  as  he 
entered  the  building,  its  inmates  were  instantly 
wide  awake  and  aware  of  his  presence.  With  a 
few  whispered  words  he  explained  the  situation 
to  Songa,  adding  that  while  the  white  chief  had 
no  authority  to  free  a  prisoner,  he  was  unwilling 
that  one  whose  life  had  been  saved  by  his  child 
should  be  restored  to  those  who  would  surely  kill 
him.  "Therefore,"  continued  the  hunter,  "he  bids 
you  make  good  your  escape  while  it  is  yet  dark, 
taking  with  you  these  presents.  He  would  have 
you  tell  no  man  of  the  manner  of  your  going,  and 
bids  you  remember,  if  ever  English  captives  are 
in  your  power,  that  you  owe  both  life  and  liberty 
to  an  English  child. 


26 


AT   WAR   WITH   PONTIAC 


iH 


f 
if 

mi; 

IF 


"  ^l 


To  you,"  he  added,  turning  to  Songa's  heroic 
wife,  "the  white  squaw  sends  the  greeting  of  one 
brave  woman  to  another.  She  bids  you  go  in 
peace,  lead  your  husband  to  the  lodges  of  his 
people,  and  restore  him  to  the  child  who,  but  for 
her  child,  would  now  be  fatherless." 

As  the  young  Ottawa,  assisted  by  his  loving 
wife,  slowly  gained  his  feet  and  painfully  straight- 
ened his  body,  whose  stiffened  wounds  rendered  every 
movement  one  of  torture,  he  answered  simply:  — 

"The  words  of  my  white  brother  are  good. 
Songa  will  never  forget  them.  If  all  white  men 
were  like  him,  there  would  be  no  more  fighting, 
for  the  hatchet  would  be  buried  forever." 

While  both  the  hunter  and  the  squaw  rubbed 
the  sufferer's  limbs  with  bear's  grease,  and  so  in 
a  measure  restored  their  suppleness,  the  latter 
said  in  a  low  voice,  that  was  yet  thrilling  in  its 
intensity:  — 

"  Tell  my  white  sister  that  through  her  words  I 
can  understand  the  love  of  the  Great  Spirit  for 
his  children.  They  have  sunk  deep  into  my  heart, 
where  their  refreshing  shall  ever  be  as  that  of  cool 
waters." 

In  the  first  faint  flvish  of  the  coming  dawn  two 
dusky  figures  slipped,  with  the  silence  of  shadows, 
from  among  the  buildings  of  Tawtry  House,  sped 
across  the  open,  and  vanished  in  the  blackness  of 
the  forest.     At  the  same  time  Truman  Flagg,  well 


ESCAPR   OF  THE   PRISONERS 


27 


satisfied  with  the  act  just  perfovnied,  though  won- 
dering as  to  what  woukl  ])e  its  results,  returned  to 
his  own  lodging,  flung  himself  on  his  couch  of 
skins,  and  was  quickly  buried  in  slumber. 

He  was  awakened  some  time  later  by  the  voice 
of  his  employer,  calling,  "Come,  Flagg!  Turn 
out!  the  sun  is  all  of  two  hours  high,  and  here 
you  are  still  sleeping.  You  ought  to  be  ashamed 
of  yourself." 

As  the  hunter  emerged  from  his  cabin,  yawning 
and  stretching,  the  major  continued:  "I  am  on 
my  way  to  visit  our  guests,  or  prisoners,  as  I 
suppose  we  must  now  call  them,  and  want  you  to 
act  as  interpreter.  Whether  guests  or  prisoners, 
we  must  not  allow  them  to  starve,  and  if  they  are 
half  as  hungry  aj  I  am  at  this  moment  they  must 
feel  that  they  are  in  imminent  danger  of  it." 

T'^e  honest  soldier  was  amazed  to  find  the  door  of 
the  tool-house  unlocked,  and  still  more  so  to  discover 
that  the  place  was  empty.  "  What  does  it  mean  ?  " 
he  cried  angrily.  "Have  we  a  traitor  among  us? 
or  is  it  witchcraft  ?  Surely  no  human  being,  wounded 
so  nigh  unto  death  as  was  that  Indian  but  a  few  hours 
since,  could  have  effected  an  escape  unaided." 

"You  forget  that  the  squaw  was  with  him,"  sug- 
gested the  hunter. 

"  True ;  though  how  she  could  have  unlocked  the 
door  passes  my  understanding.  Are  you  certain 
that  you  locked  it  after  admitting  her?" 


¥'. 


III     ! 


28 


AT  WAR  WITH  PONTIAC 


"I  am  sartain,"  replied  Truman  Flagg,  "for  I 
tried  it  afterwards." 

A  prolonged,  though  unavailing,  search  was  made 
through  all  the  buildings  and  the  adjacent  forest 
that  morning.     While  \t  was  in  progress  the  ma- 

e 

jor  appeared  greatly  chagrined  at  the  turn  of  events ; 
but  his  outward  demeanor  concealed  an  inward  satis- 
faction that  he  had  not  'been  obliged  to  abuse  the  laws 
of  hospitality,  by  tre^kting  his  guests  as  prisoners. 
As  for  Mrs.  Hester,  she  rejoiced  so  openly  at 
their  escape  that  the  hunter  was  finally  emboldened 
to  confess  to  her  his  share  in  it,  and  deliver  the 
message  of  the  Indian  woman. 


■^:'--r~ 


CHAPTER   V 


A   BABY  LOST  AND   RECOVERED 


In  the  scoutin[.  of  that  morning  Truman  Flagg 
took  an  active  part,  and  he  alone  of  all  who  were 
out  discovered  the  trail  of  the  fleeing  Otta^ras.  Fol- 
lowing it  far  enough  to  assure  himself  that  no  un- 
friendly forest  ranger  had  run  across  it,  he  turned 
his  steps  in  the  direction  of  the  Seneca  village. 
Here,  although  he  was  received  with  a  certain  cool- 
ness, arising  from  his  participation  in  the  incident 
of  the  previous  evening,  no  affront  was  offered  him, 
and  he  had  no  difficulty  in  acquiring  the  information 
he  desired.  Thus  he  was  able  to  report  to  Major 
Hester,  on  his  return  to  Tawtry  House,  that  Mahng 
not  only  lived,  but  was  in  a  fair  way  to  recover 
from  his  injury,  and  that  by  means  of  swift  runners 
the  grievance  of  the  Indians  had  already  been  laid 
before  Sir  William  Johnson. 

This  report  was  confirmed  on  the  following  day, 
by  the  appearance  of  a  delegation  of  Seneca  chiefs, 
who  brought  a  note  from  the  governor,  and  de- 
manded that  Major  Hester  deliver  to  them  the 
Ottawa  captive.  Sir  William's  note,  though  ex- 
tremely courteous,  was  very  firm,  and  contained  an 

29 


} 

it 


30 


AT   WAR   WITH   I'ONTIAC 


If 


It 


unmistakable  order  for  restoration  to  the  Senecas  of 
their  lawful  prisoner.  It  also  eluded  the  major  for 
interfering  between  Indians,  at  a  risk  of  disturbing 
the  friendly  relations  between  the  English  and  iheir 
Iroquois  neighbors. 

With  the  reading  of  this  note  an  angry  flush 
mantled  the  soldier's  bronzed  cheeks,  and  he  seemed 
on  the  point  of  expressing  his  feelings  in  forcible 
language.  Controlling  himself  with  a  \isible  effort, 
and  bidding  Truman  Flagg  interpret  his  words,  he 
replied  to  the  chiefs  as  follows:  — 

"Brothers:  I  have  listened  to  your  demand  and 
find  it  a  just  one.  The  talking-paper  of  the  white 
chief  bids  me  deliver  to  you  a  prisoner  known  as 
Songa  the  Ottawa.  The  orders  of  the  white  chief 
must  be  obeyed,  as  I  would  obey  this  one  were  it 
possible  to  do  so,  but  it  is  not.  Listen.  As  I 
walked  before  my  lodge,  a  stranger,  whom  I  had 
never  seen,  ran  from  the  forest  and  fell  at  my  feet. 
He  was  bleeding  from  many  wounds,  and  exhausted 
from  long  running.  An  enemy  followed,  and 
sought  to  kill  him;  when  my  son,  a  little  child, 
threw  himself  across  the  stranger's  neck  and  saved 
his  life.  Was  not  Ihat  a  sign  from  the  Great  Spirit 
that  he  wished  the  stranger  to  live?  Could  I  do 
less  than  was  done  by  that  little  child?  You  know 
I  could  not.  You  know  that  no  Seneca  warrior 
would  allow  a  man  to  be  killed  who  sought  his  pro- 
tection in  such  a  manner.     So  I  lifted  this  stranger 


A   BABY   LUST  AND   RECOVERED 


81 


and  took  him  to  my  lodge.  At  the  same  time  I  told 
his  enemy  that  I  would  keep  him  until  an  order 
could  be  brought  from  the  great  white  chief  for  him. 
to  be  delivered  up.  Now  you  have  brought  that 
order,  and,  were  the  stranger  still  in  my  lodge,  I 
would  deliver  him  to  you ;  but  he  is  not.  He  left 
me  that  same  night.  How,  I  know  not.  He  was 
sore  wounded,  and  was  lodged  in  a  secure  place, 
but  in  the  morning  he  was  gone.  I  am  told  that  he 
is  a  medicine  man  of  the  Metai.  May  he  not  have 
been  removed  by  the  magic  of  his  circle  ?  No  matter. 
He  was  here  and  is  gone.  You  look  to  me  for  him, 
and  I  cannot  produce  him.  That  is  all.  I  have 
spoken." 

A  dignified  old  Seneca  chief  arose  to  reply,  and 
said:  "We  have  heard  the  words  of  my  white 
brother,  and  we  believe  them  to  be  true,  for  his 
tongue  is  not  crooked.  He  alone  of  all  white  men 
has  never  lied  to  us.  He  says  the  prisoner  is  gone, 
and  it  must  be  so.  But  it  is  not  well.  Our  hearts 
are  heavy  at  the  escape  of  so  brave  a  captive. 
What,  then,  will  my  brother  give  us  in  his  place, 
that  the  heaviness  of  our  hearts  may  be  lifted  ?  " 

•'I  will  give  you,"  replied  Major  Hester,  "two 
guns,  and  ten  red  blankets,  twenty  pounds  of 
powder  and  fifty  pounds  of  lead,  one  piece  of  blue 
cloth,  one  piece  of  red  cloth,  and  five  pounds  of 
tobacco.     Is  it  enough?" 

"It  is  enough, "answered  the  chief,  while  the  eyes 


32 


AT  WAR  WITH  PONTIAC 


I 


of  his  companions  glistened  at  the  prospect  of  this 
munificent  present.  "But,"  he  continued,  "there 
was  a  woman.  What  will  my  brother  give  for 
her?" 

"Nothing,"  answered  the  white  brother,  promptly, 
"for  she  was  not  your  prisoner." 

"Ugh I"  grunted  the  Indians. 

"There  is  also  Mahng,"  continued  the  savage 
diplomat,  whose  rule  of  action  was  that  of  his  white 
colleagues  in  the  same  service;  namely,  to  give  as 
little  and  get  as  much  as  possible.  "What  will 
my  brother  give  him  to  help  the  healing  of  his 
wounds  ?  " 

"I  will  give  Mahng  a  handsome  present  when- 
ever he  shall  come  to  receive  it,  that  there  may  be 
no  bad  blood  between  us,"  was  the  answer;  and  with 
these  concessions  the  Indians  expressed  themselves 
as  well  content. 

The  proprietor  of  Tawtry  House  kept  his  word 
in  regard  to  the  presents;  but  Mahng  never  came 
to  claim  those  set  apart  for  him.  Instead  of  so 
doing,  he  sent  word  to  Major  Hester  that  no  gift, 
save  that  of  his  life's  blood,  would  ever  atone  for 
the  insult  of  that  kick,  nor  wipe  out  the  enmity 
between  them. 

"So  be  it,  then,  if  he  will  have  it  so,"  replied  the 
soldier,  with  a  light  laugh,  when  this  was  reported 
to  him;  but  his  wife  turned  pale  and  trembled  as 
she  recalled  the  undying  hate  expressed  by  Mahng's 


I? 


A  BABY  LOST  AND  RECOVERED 


33 


scowling  face.  Nor  was  the  Ojibwa's  threat  an 
entirely  idle  one,  as  the  settlers  discovered  to  their 
sorrow,  when  aeveral  of  their  catt  were  killed,  an 
outbuilding  was  burned,  and  finally  the  major  him- 
self had  a  narrow  escape  with  his  life,  from  a  shot 
fired  by  an  unseen  foe.  Finally,  these  things  be- 
came 30  annoying  that  Sir  William  Johnson  notified 
the  Senecas  to  drive  Mahng  from  their  country, 
or  hand  him  over  to  the  whites  for  punishment, 
unless  they  wished  to  forfeit  the  valuable  annual 
present,  sent  to  them  by  their  great  Father  of  Eng- 
land, an  instalment  of  which  was  then  due. 

As  the  Diver  was  by  no  means  popular  in  his 
adopted  tribe,  he  was  promptly  carried  across  the 
Niagara  river,  and  forbidden  ever  to  set  foot  on  its 
eastern  shore  again,  under  penalty  of  death.  Hav- 
ing performed  this  virtuous  act,  the  Senecas  moved 
eastward  to  the  long  council-house  of  the  Six 
Nations,  which  was  located  in  the  country  of 
the  Onondagas,  where  they  were  to  receive  their 
presents  and  share  in  the  deliberations  of  their 
confederacy. 

It  was  two  months  after  the  incidents  above  de- 
scribed, and  several  weeks  had  passed  without  an 
Indian  having  been  seen  in  the  vicinity  of  Tawtry 
House.  So  absolutely  peaceful  were  its  surround- 
ings that  the  vigilance  of  its  inmates  was  relaxed, 
and  during  the  daytime,  at  least,  they  came  and 
went  at  will,  without  a  thought  of  insecurity. 


84 


AT   WAR    WITH    rONTIAC 


This  peace  was  rudely  broken  one  morning  by 
shrill  cries  from  the  Scotch  nurse  maid  who,  an  hour 
before,  had  strolled  with  her  infant  charge  toward 
the  lake.  She  now  ran  to  the  house  in  an  agony 
of  terror,  and  uttering  unintelligible  screams.  It 
was  at  first  believed  that  the  child  was  drowned,  but 
finally  the  distracted  parents  gleaned  from  the  girl's 
half-coherent  words  that  she  had  left  him  in  safety 
at  some  distance  from  the  shore,  for  a  single  minute, 
while  she  stepped  to  the  water's  edge  for  a  drink. 
When  she  returned  he  had  disappeared,  nor  was 
there  any  answer  to  her  calling. 

For  two  days  search  parties  scoured  the  surround- 
ing forest,  but  without  avail.  There  was  not  an 
experienced  trailer  among  them,  Truman  Flagg 
being  with  Sir  William  Johnson  at  the  Onondaga 
council-house.  Toward  the  close  of  the  second  day, 
while  Major  Hester  and  most  of  his  men  were  still 
engaged  in  their  fruitless  search,  the  heartbroken 
mother  walked  listlessly  to  the  place  where  her 
child  had  last  been  seen.  She  had  already  been 
there  many  times,  unconsciously,  but  irresistibly 
attracted  to  the  spot. 

On  this  occasion,  as  she  was  about  to  turn  back, 
there  came  to  her  ear  the  cry  of  an  infant.  Like  a 
tigress  robbed  of  her  young,  and  with  blazing  eyes, 
the  bereaved  woman  sprang  in  the  direction  of  the 
sound,  and  in  another  instant  her  child,  alive  and 
well,  was  clasped  to  her  bosom.     He  had  been  hid- 


A    BABY    LUST   AND   UKCUVEKEU 


86 


den  beneath  the  low-spreading  branches  of  a  small 
cedar,  and  she  snatched  him  from  a  bark  cradle, 
exquisitely  made  and  lined  with  costly  furs. 

Like  one  pursued  by  a  great  terror,  she  tied  to  the 
house  with  her  precious  burden,  nor  would  she  per- 
mit one  to  take  it  from  her  until  her  husband's 
return. 

When  they  examined  the  child  they  found  him 
without  scatch  or  blemish,  save  for  a  curious  and 
inflamed  disfiguration  on  his  left  arm,  just  below  the 
shoulder.  Though  this  soon  healed,  it  was  long 
before  its  mystery  was  explained ;  but  when  Truman 
Flagg  saw  it,  he  pronounced  it  to  be  the  tattooed 
mark  of  an  Indian  totem. 


u. 


CHAPTER  VI 


THE   WILDERNESS 


In  a  new  country  the  changes  effected  during  six- 
teen years  are  apt  to  be  greater  tlian  those  of  a  life- 
time in  long-established  communities.  Certainly  this 
was  the  case  in  North  America  during  the  sixteen 
years  immedicately  preceding  that  of  1763.  The 
bitter  fighting  between  England  and  France  for  the 
supremacy  of  the  new  world  that  began  with 
the  signal  defeat  of  the  English  army  under  Brad- 
dock,  in  1765,  was  ended  four  years  later  by  Wolfe's 
decisive  victory  on  the  Plains  of  Abraham.  A  year 
later  France  retired  from  the  conflict  and  surren- 
dered Canada,  with  all  its  dependencies,  to  the  Eng- 
lish. These  dependencies  included  a  long  chain  of 
tiny  forts,  about  some  of  which  were  clustered  thrifty 
French  settlements  that  extended  entirelv  around  the 
Great  Lakes  and  south  of  them  into  the  valley  of  the 
Ohio.  Among  these  were  Niagara  at  the  mouth  of 
the  river  of  that  name,  Presque  Isle  on  the  site  of  the 
present  city  of  Erie,  Sandusky,  Detroit,  Mackinac, 
Fort  Howard  on  Green  Bay,  and  Fort  St.  Joseph  near 
the  southern  end  of  Lake  Michigan.  While  from 
its  commanding  position  the  most  important  of  these 

30 


THE    WILDKKNKSS 


37 


foils  wiw  tlio  first  luiiHod;  tliu  laiffOHi,  and  the  one 
suiTouiulod  by  the  most  thrivinj^  scttluiiient  was  at 
Detroit.  Hero  tlio  fort  itself  vvius  a  palisaded  village 
of  one  hundred  compactly  l)uilt  houses  standing  on 
the  western  bank  of  the  Detroit  river.  Beyond  it,  on 
bolh  sides  for  nearly  eight  miles,  stretched  the  pros- 
perous settlement  of  French  peasants,  whoso  long, 
narrow  farms  reached  far  back  from  the  river,  though 
in  every  case  the  tidy  white  houses  and  outbuildings 
stood  close  to  the  watjr's  edge. 

The  English  settlements  at  the  close  of  the  war  with 
France  had  not  crossed  the  AUeghanies,  and  in  the 
province  of  New  Yi)rk  the  western  bank  of  the  Hud- 
son was  an  alraost  unbroken  wilderness.  Through 
the  country  of  the  Six  Nations,  and  by  their  especial 
permission,  a  military  route,  guarded  by  a  line  of 
forts,  had  been  established,  though  it  was  clearly 
understood  by  the  Indians  that  all  these  should  be 
abandoned  as  soon  as  the  war  was  ended.  This  route 
began  at  the  frontier  town  of  Albany.  Here  the  trav- 
eller left  the  clumsy  but  comfortable  sloop  on  board 
which  he  had  perhaps  spent  a  week  or  more  on  the 
voyage  from  New  York,  and  embarked  in  a  canoe  or 
flat-boat,  which  was  laboriously  poled  against  the 
swift  current  of  the  Mohawk  river.  Thus  he  passed 
the  old  Dutch  town  of  Schenectady,  Johnson  Hall 
and  Johnson  Castle,  Forts  Hunter  and  Herkimer,  and 
at  length  reached  the  head  of  river  navigation  at  Fort 
Stanwix.     From  here  a  short  portage  through  the  for- 


88 


AT  WAR   WITH   PONTTAC 


!" 


}    "i 


est  led  him  to  the  waters  of  Wood  creek,  where  he 
might  again  embark  and  float  with  the  sluggish  cur- 
rent to  the  Royal  Blockhouse  on  the  shore  of  Oneida 
lake.  Crossing  this,  and  passing  under  the  walls  of 
Fort  Brewerton  at  the  source  of  the  Oswego  river, 
he  would  descend  the  swift  waters  of  that  stream 
to  Fort  Oswego  on  the  shore  of  Lake  Ontario. 
From  here  his  course  in  any  direction  lay  over 
the  superb  waterways  of  the  great  inland  lakes 
whose  open  navigation  was  only  interrupted  b}'^  a 
toilsome  portage  around  the  great  cataract  of  the 
Niagara  river. 

Beyond  these  few  isolated  dots  of  white  settle- 
ments and  the  slender  lines  of  communication  be- 
tween them,  the  whole  vast  interior  country  was 
buried  in  the  shade  of  an  unbroken  forest  that 
swept  like  a  billowy  sea  of  verdure  over  plains, 
hills,  valleys,  and  mountains,  screening  the  sunlight 
from  innumerable  broad  rivers  and  rushing  streams, 
and  spreading  its  leafy  protection  over  uncounted 
millions  of  beasts,  birds,  and  fishes.  Here  dwelt  the 
Indian,  and  before  the  coming  of  the  white  man  the 
forest  supplied  all  his  simple  needs.  Its  gloomy 
mazes  were  threaded  in  every  direction  by  his  trails, 
deep-trodden  by  the  feet  of  many  generations,  and 
forming  a  network  of  communication  between  all 
villages  and  places  of  import'j,nce.  So  carefully  did 
these  narrow  highways  follow  lines  of  shortest  dis- 
tance and  easiest  grade,  that  when  the  white  man 


THE   WILDERNESS 


39 


began  to  lay  out  his  own  roads  he  could  do  no  better 
than  adopt  their  suggestions. 

With  the  coming  of  the  whites,  the  life  of  the 
Indian  was  subjected  to  sudden  and  radical  changes. 
Having  learned  of  the  existence  and  use  of  guns, 
knives,  kettles,  blankets,  and  innumerable  other 
things  that  appealed  to  his  savage  notions  of  com- 
fort and  utility,  he  must  now  have  them,  and  for 
them  would  trade  furs.  So  the  fur  traders  became 
important  features  of  the  forest  life,  and  their  busi- 
ness grew  to  be  so  immensely  profitable  that  its  con- 
trol was  one  of  the  prime  objects  for  which  England 
and  France  fought  in  America.  The  little  forts  that 
the  French  scattered  over  the  country  were  only  trad- 
ing-posts, and  at  them,  so  long  as  their  builders  ruled, 
the  Indians  were  treated  with  a  fairness  and  courtesy 
that  won  their  firm  friendship  and  made  them  stanch 
allies  in  times  of  war.  But  when  the  French  power 
was  broken,  and  the  Indians,  without  at  all  under- 
standing why,  found  that  they  must  hereafter  deal 
only  with  English  fur  tradei-s,  all  this  was  changed. 

There  was  no  longer  a  war  on  hand  nor  a  rival 
power  in  the  land,  therefore  the  necessity  for  con- 
ciliating the  Indian  and  gaining  his  friendship  no 
longer  existed.  The  newcomers  did  not  care  so 
much  for  furs  as  they  did  for  land.  For  this  they 
were  willing  to  trade  rum,  but  not  guns,  knives, 
powder,  or  bullets.  These  must  be  kept  from  the 
Indian,  lest  he  do  mischief.     He  no  longer  found 


40 


AT   WAR   WITH  PONTIAC 


in  the  white  man  a  friend,  but  a  master,  and  a  very 
cruel  one  at  that. 

It  was  now  considered  good  economy  to  withhold 
the  presents  that  in  war  time  had  been  so  lavishly 
bestowed  on  the  Indir.ns,  and  the  one  problem  that 
the  English  sought  to  solve  was  how  to  get  rid  of 
the  undesirable  red  man  as  cheaply  and  quickly  as 
possible.  The  little  trading-posts,  in  which  he  had 
been  made  a  welcome  guest,  were  now  filled  with 
red-coated  soldiers,  who  called  him  a  dog  and  treated 
him  as  such.  He  became  ragged  and  hungry,  was 
driven  from  the  homes  of  his  fathers,  and  finally 
began  to  perceive  that  even  the  privilege  of  living 
was  not  to  be  granted  him  much  longer.  He  grew 
desperate,  and  his  hatred  against  those  who  had 
driven  away  his  kind  French  friends  and  brought 
about  all  his  present  misery  became  very  bitter.  He 
saw  plainly  that  if  he  did  not  drive  these  red- 
coats back  to  the  sea  whence  they  came,  they  would 
soon  sweep  his  race  from  the  face  of  the  earth. 
There  seemed  to  be  only  a  few  white  men  and  many 
Indians ;  but  while  the  former  were  united  under 
one  great  leader,  the  latter  were  divided  into  many 
tribes  with  many  little  leaders.  If  they,  too,  would 
only  find  some  great  chief,  under  whom  all  the  tribes 
could  unite,  how  quickly  would  they  wipe  out  the 
hated  redcoats  and  teach  the  English  to  respect  their 
rights.  Perhaps  as  soon  as  they  began  to  fight  for 
themselves  the  white-coated  soldiers  of  France  would 


THE   WILDERNESS 


41 


Id 


come  again  to  help  them.  At  any  rate,  certain  white 
men  told  them  this  would  happen,  and  they  were 
believed.     If  only  they  could  find  a  leader! 

Gradually,  but  with  convincing  proof,  it  dawned 
upon  the  unhappy  Indians  that  a  great  leader  had 
arisen  among  them,  and  was  ready  to  deal  the  deci- 
sive blow  that  should  set  them  free.  To  tribe  after 
tribe  and  to  village  after  village  came  messengers  bear- 
ing broad  belts  of  wampum  and  the  crimson  hatchet  of 
war.  They  came  in  the  name  of  Pontiac,  war  chief 
of  the  fierce  Ottawas,  head  medicine  man  of  the  power- 
ful Metai,  friend  of  Montcalm,  stanch  ally  of  the 
French  during  the  recent  war,  and  leader  of  his  people 
at  the  battle  of  the  Monongahela,  where  stubborn  Brad- 
dock  was  slain  with  his  redcoats,  and  even  the  dreaded 
"  long-knives  "  from  Virginia  were  forced  to  fly. 

Far  and  wide  travelled  the  messengers  of  this 
mighty  chieftain,  and  everywhere  was  his  war  hatchet 
eagerly  accepted.  Far  and  wide  went  Pontiac  him- 
self, and  wherever  his  burning  words  were  heard  the 
children  of  the  forest  became  crazed  with  the  fever 
of  war.  Finally,  the  fierce  plan  was  perfected.  The 
blow  was  to  be  struck  at  every  British  post  west  of 
Niagara  on  the  same  day.  With  the  fall  of  these, 
the  triumphant  forest  hordes  were  to  rush  against 
the  settlements  and  visit  upon  them  the  same  cruel 
destruction  that  had  overtaken  their  own  villages 
whenever  the  white  man  had  seen  fit  to  wipe  them 
from  his  patch. 


i 


42 


AT  WAR   WITH   PONITAC 


While  this  movf  aent  had  gained  ground  until  the 
fatal  storm  was  just  ready  to  burtt,  it  had  been 
conducted  with  such  secrecy  that  only  one  white 
man  even  suspected  its  existence,  and  his  name  was 
Graham  Hester. 


I 

! 


CHAPTER   VII 


THE   MAJOR   UE-ENTERS   ACTIVE   SERVICE 


On  the  breaking  out  of  the  French  war,  Major 
Hester  accepted  his  friend's  invitation  to  remove  his 
family  to  Johnson  Hall,  and  make  that  his  home  dur- 
ing the  troublous  times  that  would  I'ender  Tawtry 
House  an  unsafe  place  of  residence.  This  he  did 
the  more  readily  on  account  of  his  wife's  health, 
which  was  so  precarious  that,  while  the  major  was 
confident  he  could  defend  liis  forest  fortress  against 
any  ordinary  attack,  he  feared  lest  the  excitement  of 
such  an  affair  might  prove  too  much  for  the  frail 
woman  who  was  dearer  to  him  than  life. 

Alas  for  his  precautions !  During  the  wearisome 
eastward  journey,  the  travellers  were  drenched  by  a 
fierce  storm  of  rain  and  hail  that  was  followed  by  a 
chilling  wind.  So  furious  was  the  tempest  that  it 
was  impossible  to  wholly  protect  the  invalid  from  it, 
and  in  less  than  a  week  thereafter  the  noisy  bustle 
of  Johnson  Hall  was  silenced  for  an  hour  by  her 
funeral.  So  deeply  did  the  rugged  soldier  feel  his 
loss,  that  he  vowed  he  would  never  again  set  foot  in 
the  house  that  had  been  hers,  and  that,  as  soon  as  he 
could  make  provision  for  his  children,  he  would  seek 

43 


44 


AT   WAR   WITH   PONTIAC 


f 


I'   > 


in  battle  for  the  king,  that  reunion  with  his  loved 
one  that  death  alone  could  grant. 

The  children  thus  deprived  of  a  mother's  tender 
care  were  Donald,  now  a  sturdy  lad  of  twelve  years, 
and  Edith,  a  dainty  little  maiden  two  yeans  younger. 
The  former  was  wise  beyond  liis  years  in  forest  lore, 
which  he  had  eagerly  imbibed  from  the  tuition  of 
that  master  of  woodcraft,  Truman  Flagg.  At  the 
same  time  he  was  sadly  deficient  in  a  knowledge  of 
books  and  many  other  things  that  go  to  make  up  the 
education  of  a  gentleman.  Him,  therefore,  the  major 
decided  to  send  to  New  York  to  be  titled  for  the  col- 
lege then  known  as  "  King's,"  but  afterwards  famous 
under  the  name  of  "  Columbia." 

Against  this  decision  the  lad  raised  strenuous  objec- 
tions, declaring  that  his  sole  ambition  was  to  become 
a  soldier,  and  that  such  a  one  could  learn  to  fight 
without  the  aid  of  books. 

"  True,  my  son,  so  he  can,  after  a  fashion,"  replied 
the  major,  gravely.  "  But,  in  the  art  of  war,  as  in 
every  other  art,  all  our  teachings  come  from  those 
who  have  preceded  us,  and  the  most  important  of 
these  are  recorded  in  the  books  they  have  left  for  our 
consideration.  Again,  as  the  soldier  of  to-day  is  the 
modern  representative  of  the  chivalrous  knight  of 
olden  time,  he  must  needs  be  a  gentleman,  and  an 
uneducated  gentleman  would  be  as  sorry  a  spectacle 
as  an  unarmed  soldier  in  battle.  So,  my  dear  boy, 
accept   thy  fate   kindly  and  make  a  soldier's   fight 


1 


THE   MAJOR   RE-ENTERS   ACTIVE  SERVICE 


45 


against  the  enemy  named  ignorarco.  Upon  the  day 
of  thy  graduation  from  King's  College,  if  my  influ- 
ence can  compass  it,  which  I  doubt  not  it  can,  a  com- 
mission in  one  of  His  Majesty's  American  regiments 
shall  await  thy  acceptance.  I  shall  send  our  little 
lass  with  thee,  and  both  she  and  thyself  will  be 
entertained  in  the  household  of  Madam  Rothsay,  the 
widow  of  a  dear  friend  of  mine,  who  has  agreed  to 
receive  you  and  fulfil,  so  far  as  may  be,  a  mother's 
duty  toward  my  motherless  children." 

The  major  escorted  his  children  as  far  as  Albany, 
where  he  embarked  them,  together  with  the  Scotch 
nurse  who  had  cared  for  both  of  them  from  their 
birth,  on  board  a  packet-sloop  that  should  cany  them 
to  their  new  house.  Having  thus  made  provision 
for  the  welfare  of  his  dear  ones,  the  lonely  man  pro- 
ceeded to  fulfil  the  destiny  he  had  planned  by  join- 
ing as  a  volunteer  aid  the  army  which,  under  General 
Johnson,  was  charged  with  the  capture  of  Crown 
Point  on  Lake  Champlain.  In  this  campaign  it  was 
largely  owing  to  Major  Hester's  soldierly  knowledge 
and  tactical  skill  that  the  French  army,  under  Baron 
Dieskau,  which  had  advanced  as  far  as  the  southe  en 
end  of  Lake  George,  was  defeated.  For  this  victory 
Sir  William  Johnson  was  raised  to  a  baronetcy  and 
presented  with  a  purse  oi  five  thousand  pounds. 

Through  the  war  Major  Hester  fought  with  one 
army  or  another,  always  in  the  forefront  of  battle,  as 
he  was  a  leader  in  council;   but  never  finding  the 


i 


!.  ,  :l 


i 

( 

I 

I 

is  1 

if 


46 


AT   WAR   WITH   PONTIAC 


boon  of  death  which  he  craved.  At  length  he  stood 
with  Wolfe  on  the  lofty  Plain  of  Abraham,  and  in 
the  fall  of  Quebec  witnessed  the  fatal  blow  to  French 
power  in  America.  In  all  this  time  he  had  never 
returned  to  the  forest  house  that  he  had  last  looked 
upon  in  company  with  his  beloved  wife.  Whether 
his  resolution  not  to  visit  it  would  have  lived  to  the 
end  can  never  be  known,  for  in  the  second  year  of 
the  war  a  marauding  party  from  an  army,  which, 
under  Montcalm,  had  just  captured  and  destroyed 
Oswego,  reached  Tawtry  House  and  burned  it  to 
the  ground. 

After  the  surrender  of  Canada,  Major  Hester  vis- 
ited his  children  in  New  York  City.  Here  he  found 
his  boy,  grown  almost  beyond  recognition,  domiciled 
in  the  new  King's  College  building,  then  just  com- 
pleted, and  doing  well  in  his  studies,  but  keenly 
regretting  that  the  war  was  ended  without  his  par- 
ticipation. The  white-haired  soldier  also  found  his 
daughter,  Edith,  now  fifteen  years  of  age,  budding 
into  a  beautiful  womanhood,  and  bearing  so  strong 
a  resemblance  to  her  mother  that  he  gazed  at  her 
with  mixed  emotions  of  pain  and  delight. 

During  his  stay  in  the  city,  the  major  was  fre- 
quently consulted  upon  military  affairs  by  the  Eng- 
lish commander-in-chief,  Sir  Jeffry  Amherst,  who 
finally  begged  him  to  accompany  the  expedition 
which  he  was  about  to  send  into  the  far  west, 
under   the   redoubtable   Colonel   Rogers,   of  ranger 


THE   MAJOR  RE-ENTEIiS   ACTIVE   SERVICE 


47 


fame,  to  receive  the  surrender  of  the  more  distant 
French  posts. 

"Rogers  is  impetuous,  and  needs  a  man  of  your 
experience  to  serve  as  a  balance-wheel,"  said  Sir 
Jeffry.  "Besides,  I  want  some  one  of  your  ability 
and  knowledge  of  Indian  affairs  to  take  command  of 
Detroit,  the  principal  settlement  and  most  important 
trading-post  in  the  west.  So,  Hester,  if  you  will 
accept  this  duty,  you  will  not  only  be  serving  the 
king,  but  doing  me  a  great  personal  favor  as  well." 

Willing  to  continue  for  a  while  longer  in  active 
service,  and  having  no  other  plan.  Major  Hester 
accepted  Sir  Jeffry's  offer,  and  set  forth  on  his  long 
journey,  joining  Rogers  at  Fort  Niagara,  where,  with 
the  aid  of  cranes  and  ox-teams,  the  rangers  were 
laboriously  transporting  their  heavy  whale-boats  over 
the  steep  portage  around  the  great  cataract. 

At  length  the  little  flotilla  was  again  launched, 
and  as  it  skirted  the  southern  shore  of  Lake  Erie, 
its  every  movement  was  watched  by  the  keen  eyes 
of  Indian  scouts,  concealed  in  dense  forest  coverts, 
and  reported  in  detail  to  the  chief  of  that  country ; 
for  never  before  had  a  body  of  British  troops  ven- 
tured so  far  into  the  interior.  Finally,  in  one  of 
their  camps  the  rangers  were  visited  by  an  impos- 
ing array  of  Indian  sachems,  headed  by  the  great 
chief  himself,  who  demanded  the  reason  of  their 
presence  in  his  country. 

When  Rogers,  in  reply,  had  stated  the  nature  of 


.'; 


E  f  t-l 


11 


a 


[ 


48 


AT   WAR   WITH   rONTIAC 


his  business,  the  chief  began  a  speech,  in  which  he 
forbade  the  further  advance  of  the  English.  Sud- 
denly his  eye  rested  upon  Major  Hester,  who  had 
just  left  his  tent  to  attend  the  council.  The  speech 
of  the  Indian  came  to  an  abrupt  pause,  and  gazing 
fixedly  at  the  white-haired  officer,  he  inquired  if  he 
were  not  the  chief  who  dwelt  in  the  great  house  of 
the  two  trees  in  the  land  of  the  Senecas. 

"  I  did  dwell  there,"  replied  the  major,  greatly 
surprised  at  the  question. 

"Does  my  brother  of  the  two-tree  house  wish  to 
journey  through  the  country  of  the  Ottawas?"  de- 
manded the  chieftain. 

"  Certainly,  I  do,"  was  the  reply. 

"  For  peace  or  for  war  ? "  queried  the  savage, 
laconically. 

"  For  peace,"  answered  Major  Hester.  "  The  war 
is  ended,  and  we  do  but  journey  to  take  peaceable 
possession  of  those  forts  which  the  French  have 
given  over  to  the  English." 

"  Ugh !  It  is  good !  Let  my  white  brother 
t^^vel  in  peace,  for  Pontiac  knows  that  his  tongue 
is  straight,  and  that  what  he  says  must  be  true 
words." 

With  this  the  haughty  chieftain,  followed  by  his 
savage  retinue,  left  the  camp,  and  not  another  Indian 
was  seen  until  Detroit  was  reached,  though,  as  was 
afterwards  learned,  a  strong  body  of  Pontiac's  war- 
riors had  awaited  them  at  the  mouth  of  the  Detroit 


THE   MAJOR   RE-ENTERS   ACTIVE   SERVICE 


40 


river,  and  were  only  restrained  from  attiickiiig  the 
flotilla  by  their  leader's  express  connnand. 

Neither  Major  Hester  nor  Colonel  Rogers  knew 
what  to  make  of  this  eurious  behavior  on  the  part 
of  the  powerful  Indian  who  had  evidently  been 
determined  to  oppose  their  progress.  The  former 
could  not  recall  ever  having  seen  him  or  held  inter- 
course with  him,  though,  after  he  assumed  command 
of  Fort  Detroit,  Pontiac  paid  him  freciuent  visits, 
and  always  evinced  a  strong  friendship  for  the  hon- 
est soldier,  who  invariably  treated  him  and.  his  peo- 
ple with  consideration  and  fairnes**.  Frequently,  too, 
Pontiac  complained  to  the  major  of  the  outrages  per- 
petrated by  other  English  commanders,  their  brutal 
soldiers,  and  the  horde  of  reckless  tradera  wlio 
swarmed  through  the  country.  He  declared  that  if 
they  were  continued,  the  Indians  would  rise  against 
their  oppressors  and  sweap  them  from  the  face  of 
the  earth. 

Fully  appreciating  the  state  of  affairs,  but  power- 
less to  alter  it  for  the  better,  save  in  his  own  jurisdic- 
tion, Major  Hester  appealed  to  Sir  William  Johnson, 
begging  him  to  visit  the  western  countiy  and  use  his 
powerful  influence  to  quiet  the  growing  discontent. 
This  Sir  William  did  with  great  pomp  and  ceremony 
in  1761,  finding  himself  just  in  time  to  quell,  by 
lavish  presents  and  still  more  lavish  promises,  a  gen- 
eral uprising  of  the  Algonquin  tribes.  The  peace- 
ful relations  thus  established  lasted  but  a  short  time, 


K 


fl 


i 


i 


60 


AT   WAU    WITH   rONTIAC 


however,  and  within  a  year  the  aggressions  of  the 
whites  had  become  more  pronounced,  and  the  situa- 
tion of  the  Indians  more  desperate  than  ever.  Pon- 
tiac  had  disappeared  from  the  vicinity  of  Detroit, 
and  for  many  months  Major  Hester  liad  not  seen 
him.  At  the  same  time  he  was  well  informed  of  the 
cruelties  practised  upon  the  natives,  and  foresaw  that 
the}'^  could  not  much  longer  be  restrained  from  retali- 
ating in  their  own  bloody  fashion.  Being  unwilling 
to  fight  on  the  side  of  injustice  and  oppression,  he  at 
length  prayed  Sir  Jeffry  Amherst  to  relieve  him 
from  his  command.  This  request  was  granted,  and 
late  in  1762  he  was  succeeded  by  Major  Gladwyn, 
an  officer  with  a  brave  record  as  a  fighter  and  un- 
hampered by  any  troublesome  consideration  of  the 
rights  or  wrongs  of  Indians.  Although  thus  relieved 
of  his  command,  certain  duties  arose  to  detain  Major 
Hester  for  several  months  at  Detroit ;  and  the  momen- 
tous spring  of  1763  found  him  still  an  inmate  of  that 
frontier  post. 


CHArTEU  VIII 


DONALD   &ETa   FOKTII    ON    A    IMCIlILOrTS   MISSION 


No  ri.'^iiig  sun  over  witnessed  a  fairer  scene  t^iin 
that  presented  by  the  little  wilderness  settlement 
of  Detroit  on  the  sixth  of  May,  1703.  All  nature 
was  rejoicing  in  the  advent  of  spring  and  donning 
its  livery  of  green.  The  broad  river,  flowing  south- 
ward with  a  mighty  volume  of  water  from  four  in- 
land seas  of  which  it  formed  the  sole  outlet,  was 
lined  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach  with  the  white 
houses  and  fertile  fields  of  Frenoh  farmers.  From 
these,  spirals  of  blue  smoke  ourled  peacefully,  and 
the  voices  of  cattle  answered  each  other  in  morning 
greetings.  A  darker  mass  of  buildings  on  the  west- 
ern bank  denoted  the  palisaded  village  in  which 
dwelt  the  British  garrison,  their  wives  and  chil- 
dren, and  some  fifty  fur  traders,  with  their  Canadian 
employees.  The  houses  within  the  palisades,  about 
one  hundred  in  number,  were  mostly  low,  wooden 
structures,  roofed  with  bark  or  thatch.  The  village 
was  square  in  form,  and  while  one  side  opened  on 
the  river,  the  other  three  were  enclosed  by  wooden 
walls,  twenty-five  feet  in  height,  with  log  bastions 
at  the  corners,  and  a  blockhouse  over  each  of   the 

61 


62 


AT  WAR  WITH  rONTIAC 


three  gateways.  Several  pieces  of  light  artillery 
were  mounted  on  the  bastions,  and  anchored  in  the 
river  lay  the  armed  schooners  Beaver  and  Gladwyn. 
At  some  distance  from  the  fort,  both  up  and  down 
the  river,  rose  the  smoke  of  populous  Indian  villages, 
for  all  the  natives  of  that  section  were  in  from  their 
winter  hunting,  and  gathered  at  this  point  for  trade. 
Over  the  placid  waters  light  canoes  occasionally 
darted  from  bank  to  bank.  A  boat  brigade,  bound 
for  the  far  north,  was  just  starting  from  the  fort, 
and  the  Canadian  voyageurs,  gay  with  fringes,  beads, 
and  crimson  sashes,  caused  the  morning  air  to  ring 
with  a  tuneful  chorus  as  boat  after  boat  shot  away 
and  stemmed  the  current  with  lusty  oars. 

Not  far  from  the  point  of  this  noisy  embarkation 
was  another,  though  much  less  ostentatious  scene 
of  departure  and  leave-taking.  In  the  stern  of  a 
birch  canoe,  paddle  in  hand  and  evidently  impa- 
tient to  be  off,  sat  one  of  Rogers'  buckskin-clad 
rangers,  who  was  about  to  revisit  his  distant  New 
Hampshire  home,  for  the  first  tin.e  in  three  years. 
Near  by,  on  the  strand,  stood  two  men,  both  tall  and 
possessed  of  a  military  bearing.  One,  who  wore 
the  undress  uniform  of  an  officer,  was  elderly  and 
white-haired,  while  tl  '*  other,  slender,  and  clad 
much  as  was  the  ranger  in  the  canoe,  was  in  the 
first  flush  of  splendid  j^oung  manhood.  As  these 
two  stood  hand  in  hand,  the  younger  said :  "  Can  I 
not  persuade  you,  father,  even  at  this  last  moment, 


DONALD  SETS  FORTH  ON  A  PERILOUS  MISSION     53 


to  change  your  mind  and  accompany  us  ?  Poor  Edith 
will  be  so  dreadfully  disappointed." 

"I  fear  she  will,  Donald," returned  Major  Hester, 
with  a  sad  smile,  "but  as  this  life  is  mainly  com- 
posed of  disappointments,  the  sooner  she  learns  to 
bear  them  with  composure,  the  better.  I  had  indeed 
looked  forward  to  taking  this  journey  Avith  you,  to 
clasping  my  dear  girl  in  my  arms  once  more,  and 
ere  the  year  was  ended  to  rebuilding  Tawtry  House, 
in  which  to  establish  her  as  mistress.  With  the 
war  ended,  I  fondly  hoped  that  a  certain  degree  of 
happiness  were  still  possible  to  me,  and  looked 
forward  to  securing  it  by  some  such  means  as  I  have 
just  outlined." 

"And  is  it  not,  father?"  broke  in  the  youth, 
eagerly.  "Surely  you  have  done  far  more  than 
your  duty  here,  and  —  " 

"  No  man  has  done  that,  Donald,  so  long  as  there 
remains  an  unperformed  task  for  which  he  is  fitted," 
interrupted  Major  Hester,  gravely.  "So  long  as  I 
believe  a  crisis  in  Indian  affairs  to  be  imminent,  and 
that  bv  remaining  here  I  may  be  able  to  avert  it,  at 
least  until  the  reinforcements  which  it  is  now  yours  to 
hasten  can  arrive,  it  is  clearly  my  duty  to  stay.  So 
off  with  you,  lad.  Don't  run  any  risks  that  can  just 
as  well  be  avoided,  and  don't  try  to  avoid  any  that,  if 
successfully  taken,  will  serve  to  speed  your  errand. 
Farewell,  my  son.  May  God  bless  you  and  keep  you 
and  bring  your  enterprise  to  a  happy  termination. " 


m 


i\ 


h 


,  M.  . 


54 


AT   WAR   WITH   roNTIAC 


After  the  cauue  had  departed,  Major  Hester  as- 
cended one  of  the  water  bastions,  where  he  watched 
it  until  it  became  a  tiny  speck,  and  finally  vanished 
behind  the  projecting  land  then  known  as  Montreal 
point. 

Donald  Hester  had  striven  so  manfully  with  his 
studies  that  he  was  finally  graduated  from  King's 
College,  well  toward  the  head  of  Lis  class,  during 
the  previous  summer.  Thereupon  he  had  been  re- 
warded with  his  heart's  desire,  an  ensign's  com- 
mission in  the  Royal  Americans.  To  the  new  and 
fascinating  duties  of  his  chosen  profession  he  at  once 
devoted  himself  with  such  ardor  as  to  draw  favorable 
comment  from  his  superiors.  After  serving  at  sev- 
eral posts  he  had,  to  his  great  delight,  been  trans- 
ferred to  Detroit,  where  the  soldier  father  and  soldier 
son,  each  more  than  proud  of  the  other,  were  joy- 
fully reunited  after  their  years  of  separation.  Here, 
too,  he  renewed  his  boyhood's  intimacy  with  forest 
life,  and  eagerly  resumed  his  long-neglected  studies 
in  wilderness  lore  and  woodcraft. 

Although  Donald  was  generally  liked  by  his 
brother  officers,  he  had  no  taste  for  the  dissipations 
with  which  they  sought  to  relieve  the  monotony  of 
their  lives.  In  place  of  these,  he  chose  to  take  gun 
or  fishing-rod  and  go  off  on  long  excursions  in  his 
canoe.  On  one  of  these  occasions,  when  far  down 
the  river  and  in  vigorous  pursuit  of  a  wounded  duck, 
he  had  the  misfortune  to  break  his  only  paddle  short 


DONALD  SETS  FOUTII  ON  A  PERILOUS  MISSION    55 


off.  In  a  moment  he  was  helplessly  drifting  with 
the  powerful  current  toward  the  open  waters  of  Lake 
Erie.  In  this  dilemma,  his  only  resource  was  to 
paddle  with  his  hands,  and  attempt  by  this  tedious 
method  to  force  his  craft  to  the  nearest  shore. 
While  he  was  thus  awkwardly  engaged,  there  came 
a  ripple  of  laughter  from  close  beside  him,  and  he 
started  up  just  in  time  to  gaze  squarely  into  the 
laughing  face  of  an  Indian  girl,  who  instantly  im- 
pressed him  as  the  most  graceful  creature  he  had 
ever  seen.  She  occupied,  with  a  girl  companion,  a 
beautifully  painted  and  ornamented  canoe,  which 
had  slipped  up  to  him  with  the  lightness  of  a  thistle- 
down. As  the  young  soldier  caught  sight  of  her 
she  was  in  the  very  act  of  tossing  a  paddle  into  his 
own  helpless  craft. 

Then  the  strange  canoe  darted  away  like  an  arrow, 
while  the  only  answer  to  the  young  man's  fervently 
expressed  thanks  was  a  merry  peal  of  laughter, 
coupled  with  an  exclamation,  of  which  he  caught  but 
the  single  word  "ah-mo."  These  were  wafted  back 
to  him  as  the  flying  canoe  disappeared  behind  the 
point  of  a  small  island.  With  a  desire  to  learn 
something  more  of  the  bewitching  forest  maiden, 
who  had  come  so  opportunely  to  his  aid,  Donald 
urged  his  own  craft  vigorously  in  that  direction, 
but  when  he  rounded  the  point  there  was  no  trace  to 
be  seen  of  those  whom  he  sought. 

So  deep  an  impression  had  the  olive-tinted  face, 


!     "i 


l^i 


y 


66 


AT  WAR   WITH  TONTIAC 


i 


the  laughing  eyes,  and  the  jetty  tresses  of  the  girl 
who  tossed  tlie  paddle  to  him  made  upon  the  young 
ensign,  that  they  haunted  both  his  sleeping  and  his 
wakeful  hours ;  but,  plan  as  he  might,  he  could  not 
succeed  in  seeing  her  again,  nor  did  his  cautiously 
worded  inquiries  serve  to  elicit  the  slightest  infor- 
mation concerning  her. 

Perhaps  it  was  well  for  the  efficiency  of  the  ser- 
vice that  about  this  time  Major  Gladwyn  selected 
Donald  to  be  the  bearer  of  certain  despatches  to  Sir 
William  Johnson,  concerning  the  reinforcements  and 
supplies  that  he  expected  to  receive  by  the  spring 
brigade  of  boats  from  Niagara.  Major  Hester,  who 
had  intended  to  return  East  about  this  time,  sud- 
denly decided  to  remain  at  Detroit  a  while  longer. 
He  therefore  intrusted  a  number  of  private  de- 
spatches to  the  young  courier,  both  for  Sir  William 
and  Geueral  Amherst.  Besides  its  more  important 
despatches,  Donald's  canoe  was  freighted  with  a 
large  packet  of  letters  from  members  of  the  garrison 
to  distant  friends  and  loved  ones.  Thus  it  set  forth 
on  its  long  and  perilous  voyage  folio  w^ed  by  fond 
hopes  and  best  wishes  from  every  member  of  the  band 
of  exiles  left  behind. 


. 


i\ 


CHAPTER  IX 


ST.  aubin's  startling  information 


'If 

V, 


'  I! 


When  Major  Hester  slowly  and  thoughtfully  re- 
turned to  his  quarters  after  witnessing  the  departure 
of  his  son,  he  found  sitting  on  the  doorstep,  and 
patiently  awaiting  his  coming,  n,  Canadian  woman. 
Beside  her  stood  her  stolid-looking  husband,  whom 
the  major  recognized  as  a  well-to-do  farmer  of  the 
settlement,  to  whom  he  had  granted  some  trifling 
favors  while  in  command  of  the  post. 

"Good-morning,  madame.  Good-morning,  St. 
Aubin.  To  what  am  I  indebted  for  the  honor  of 
this  early  call?  What  can  I  do  for  you?"  asked 
the  old  soldier,  in  answer  to  the  humble  salutations 
with  which  they  greeted  his  approach. 

"Ah!  monsieur,  we  have  come,"  began  the 
woman. 

"  Certainment,  we  have  come,"  echoed  her  husband. 

"Jean!" 

"Pardon,  Marie." 

"We  have  come  with  despair  on  account  of  the 
previous  abounding  kindness  of  monsieur,  to  di- 
vulge him  —  " 

"A  secret!     A  secret  terrible ! "  exploded  the  old 

67 


;. ! 


;"■   I 


'.'.\  ■■ 


58 


AT  WAR   WITH    I'ONTIAC 


i 


<,i 


a 


man,  who  \vii.s  iieivou.sly  stiuitliiig  iir-st  on  one  foot 
and  tlion  on  the  other. 

"Jean!" 
Oni,  Marie." 

If  yon  liave  an  important  secret  to  confide,  had 
we  not  better  entei-  tlie  Iiouse?"  suggested  the 
major,  who  saw  from  the  excited  earnestness  of  the 
worthy  couple  that  something  very  unusual  had 
occurred  to  agitate  tliem. 

They  accepted  this  invitation,  and  the  major 
hnally  gleaned  from  their  combined  and  inter jectory 
statements  that  on  the  previous  day  Madame  St. 
Aubin,  visiting  the  Ottawa  village,  had  surprised 
a  number  of  warriors  in  the  act  of  cutting  ofi  the 
long  barrels  of  their  guns,  until  the  entire  length 
of  each  weapon  was  not  more  than  a  yard.  More- 
over, she  had  overheard  an  Indian  who  was  some- 
what under  the  influence  of  liquor  boast  that  ere 
many  days  he  would  have  English  scalps  with  which 
to  fringe  his  leggings. 

"Has  any  one  else  seen  these  things  or  noted 
symptoms  of  uneasiness  among  the  Indians?"  de- 
manded the  major. 

"Yes.  Basil,  the  blacksmith,  has  been  troubled 
for  days  by  Indians  begging  for  loans  of  files  and 
saws,  for  what  purpose  they  would  not  state." 

"  But  why  do  you  not  carry  this  matter  to  Major 
Gladwyn,  who  is  in  command,  instead  of  to  me,  who 
now  possess  no  authority?" 


ST.   AUBTN'S  STARTLING   INFORMATION 


59 


I 


"Because,  monsieur,  the  cominandant  makes  of 
us  a  jest  and  cares  not  to  listen.  Aussi,  because  we 
care  not  for  him;  but  to  you,  monsieur,  who  have 
formerly  turned  many  of  our  sorrows  into  joys,  we 
wish  not  that  harm  should  come.  For  ourselves, 
we  have  no  fear.  The  savages  will  not  harm  the 
French.  But  for  the  English,  whom  they  love  not 
—  well,  vuere  it  is  different." 

"You  think,  then,  that  the  fort  is  in  danger?" 

"Of  an  attack,  monsieur.     Yes." 

"How  soon?" 

"  Who  can  tell  ?  Perhaps  in  one  week.  Perhaps 
even  to-morrow." 

"Will  you  come  again  this  evening,  before  the 
gates  are  closed,  and  bring  any  further  information 
you  may  gain  during  the  day?" 

"We  dare  not,  monsieur.  All  the  French  are 
now  too  closely  watched.  This  morning  we  sell 
eggs.  In  the  evening  it  would  be  known  that  we 
had  no  business." 

"  If  I  leave  the  post  an  hour  after  sunset  and  walk 
just  beyond  the  church,  will  you  meet  me  there  and 
deliver  to  me  your  information  ?  " 

"  If  it  is  possible,  we  will ;  for  the  thing  that 
monsieur  demands  must  be  granted  on  account  of 
his,  ofttimes  of  the  heart,  kindness." 

After  the  departure  of  these  people.  Major  Hester 
thoughtfully  made  his  way  to  the  quarters  of  the 
commanding  officer,  whom  he  found  at  breakfast. 


ijill 


1: 


lii 


I- ' 
i,' 


•h 


A-h 


4 
.if 


eo 


AT   WAR   WITH   T'ONTIAC 


I 


Ghuhvyn,  though  ii  brave  man  and  a  thorough 
soldier,  was  a  high  liver,  inclined  to  dissipation, 
impatient  of  advice,  and  h^ld  an  undisguised  con- 
tempt for  all  Indians.  To  crown  all,  he  was  ex- 
tremely jealous  of  the  ascendancy  over  the  native 
tribes  gained  by  his  predecessor  in  command,  whom 
he  cordially  disliked  and  wislied  out  of  the  way. 
On  t] m3  present  occasion  '  '»  p  .ted  him  in  courteous 
terms,  but  coldly  and  wii  .^^ia  >"sing. 

"This  is  indeed  an  ean^  call  najor.  I  suppose 
I  am  indebted  for  the  pleasure  to  the  fact  that  Ensign 
Hester  took  an  early  departure,  according  to  in- 
structions, and  your  paternal  instinct  led  you  to 
speed  his  journey.  I  must  confess  my  surprise  that 
you  did  not  accompjiny  him.  I  suppose  you  are 
waiting  for  the  opportunity  of  a  more  comfortable 
passage  by  schooner.  For  my  part,  I  prefer  the 
excitement  of  a  canoe  voyage ;  but  I  suppose  as  one 
grows  old  —  " 

"A  soldier  never  grows  so  old  as  to  forget  his 
duty.  Major  Gladwyn,"  answered  the  elder  officer, 
stiffly.  "And  I  can  assure  you  that  only  a  strong 
sense  of  duty  causes  me  to  linger  in  a  place  where 
my  presence  is  so  evidently  undesirable.  But  I 
have  not  interrupted  your  breakfast  for  the  purpose 
of  discussing  personalities.  I  desire  to  lay  before 
you  a  bit  of  information  that  has  just  come  to  my 
knowledge,  regarding  certain  suspicious  movements 
among  the  Indians,  who,  as  you  must  be  aware,  are 


ii 


ST.   AUBIN'S   STARTLING  INFORMATION 


01 


»■•' 


t 


gathered  about  the  post  in  unusual  numbers.  They 
are  cutting  off  their  gun-barrels  to  such  a  length  that 
the  weapons  maybe  concealed  beneath  their  blankets. 
I  have  this  direct  from  St.  Aubin,  whose  wife,  visit- 
ing the  Ottawa  village  yesterday,  discovered  its 
inmates  to  be  thus  engaged." 

"It  must  have  been  an  interesting  sight,"  replied 
Gladwyn,  carelessly,  "but  I  fail  to  perceive  what 
possible  interest  it  can  have  for  me.  I  suppose  the 
rascals  have  learned  that  they  can  shoot  just  as 
effectively,  or  rather  as  ineffectively,  with  short  "•un- 
barrels  as  with  long,  and  so  have  wisely  decirt».d  ) 
do  away  with  useless  weight.  By  Jove,  H^^i-er,  i 
have  laughed  more  than  once  at  the  shrewd  n^^s  of 
our  traders  who  sell  cheap  flint-lock  muske  ^  to  the 
redskins  for  as  many  otter  or  beaver  skins  at>  oan  be 
piled  between  stock  and  muzzle,  and  have  these  trade 
gun"  built  with  an  increased  length  each  year. 
Rather  clever,  is  it  not?" 

"  It  is  a  bit  of  infamous  cheating  that  will  sooner 
or  later  recoil  on  our  own  heads,"  replied  the  other, 
hotly.  "But  that  is  neither  here  nor  there.  The 
question  is,  whether  or  not  the  Indians  mean  to 
attack  this  post,  and  whether  it  is  prepared  for  an 
attack  in  case  they  do  ?  " 

"  If  they  only  would,  my  dear  sir,  I  for  one  should 
welcome  it  as  a  cheerful  break  in  the  deadly  monot- 
ony of  our  lives  in  this  forsaken  place.  As  for 
preparations,  you  should  be  among  the  last  to  ques- 


:  !i 


fi'p 


i: 


!;!.! 


'Ml 


I  i 


62 


AT  WAR   WITH   PONTIAC 


tion  that  the  troops  of  His  Most  Gracious  Majesty 
of  Enghind  are  always  prepared  to  meet  any  num- 
ber of  naked  savages  under  any  circumstances." 

"That  was  Biaddock's  opinion,"  remarked  Major 
Iloster,  grimly,  "and  he  paid  for  it  with  his  life, 
liut  granting  tliat  we  are  ablt  to  withstand  an  attack, 
are  we  prepared  for  a  siege?" 

"Oh  come,  major!"  exclaimed  Gladwyn,  rather 
testily,  "that  question  is  rather  a  severe  test  of  one's 
credulity.  As  if  it  were  possible  for  a  parcel  of 
howling  redskins  to  conduct  a  siege  I  No  one  knows 
better  than  you  that  their  only  method  of  fighting  is 
a  sur2)rise,  a  yell,  a  volley,  and  then  a  retreat.  They 
are  absolutely  incap.able  of  sustained  effort." 

"Are  you  acquainted  with  Pontiac,  the  present 
war  chief  of  the  united  tribes?"  inquired  Major 
Hester,  coldly. 

"Certainly  I  am,  and  a  more  conceited,  ignorant, 
boasiful,  treacherous,  cowardly,  and  utterly  worth- 
less bit  of  red  humanity  than  he  I  have  yet  to  meet. 
I  have  already  warned  him  away  from  this  section 
of  country,  and  if  he  persists  in  remaining  where 
he  is  so  little  wanted,  I  shall  be  obliged  to  teach  him 
a  lesson." 

"Very  well,  major,  if  these  are  your  unalterable 
opinions  regarding  the  present  state  of  affairs,  I  have 
nothing  more  to  say,  save  to  wish  you  a  very  good 
morning,"  replied  the  elder  officer,  as  he  turned  to 
leave.     "However, "lie  added,  "I  shall  still  consider 


I  i 


ST.  AUBIN'S  STAUTLING   INFORMATION 


es 


it  my  duty  to  report  any  further  bits  of  information 
that  may  come  to  me." 

"While  thanking  you,  I  beg  you  not  to  incon- 
venience yourself  to  do  so,"  remarived  (iladwyn, 
frigidly,  and  with  this  the  interview  ended. 

That  evening,  wliile  a  dull  glow  still  lingered  in 
the  western  sky,  though  the  shadows  of  dusk  were 
fallen  on  the  fort  and  its  surroundings,  Major  Hester 
passed  the  sentry  at  one  of  the  gates  and  walked 
slowly,  as  though  for  an  aimless  stroll,  as  far  as  the 
little  French-Canadian  church.  On  reaching  it  he 
detected  a  dim  figure  in  its  shadow  and  asked  in  a 
low  tone,  "  Is  that  you,  St.  Aubin  ?  " 

"No,  monsieur,"  was  the  answer,  in  a  girl's  voice, 
"  but  I  am  his  daughter,  and  am  come  in  his  place, 
as  he  is  detained  by  company.  He  bade  me  deliver 
a  message  to  you  alone  and  then  hasten  back." 
With  this  the  girl  almost  whispered  in  the  ear  of 
the  old  soldier  a  few  words  that  caused  his  teeth  to 
clench  and  his  heartstrings  to  tighten.  She  had 
hardly  concluded,  when  an  approaching  step  from  the 
direction  of  the  fort  caused  her  to  spring  aside  and 
fly  with  the  swiftness  of  a  deer. 

"  Who  goes  there  ?  "  challenged  Major  Hester. 

"Pardon  me,  major,"  answered  the  well-known 
voice  of  the  commandant.  "  I  had  no  idea  I  was  in- 
terrupting a  tete-Jl-tete.  In  fact,  I  did  not  associate 
you  with  trysts  of  this  kind." 

"That  will  do.  Major  Gladwyn,"  interrupted  the 


1 


p 


I  ■'?» 


t     I 


1 

.'I'tii 


■fj 


Ml 

hi 


M 


AT   WAR   WITH   TONTIAC 


other,  sternly.  "  I  liavo  l)iit  this  minute  learned  that 
on  the  morrow  Pontiac,  with  sixty  of  his  warriors, 
all  having  guns  concealed  beneatli  tlieir  blankets, 
will  demand  to  hold  a  council  with  you.  The 
leader  will  make  a  speech,  at  the  conclusion  of 
which  lie  will  present  a  belt  of  wampum.  Your 
taking  of  that  belt  will  be  the  signal  for  a  general 
massacre  of  every  English  soul  within  the  limits  of 
Fort  Detroit,  save  only  the  one  to  whom  the  chief 
has  presented  his  calumet." 

"  Do  you  believe  this  cock-and-bull  story,  Hester?  '* 
demanded  the  startled  commander. 

"Even  now  is  the  war  dance  in  progress,"  was 
the  reply.     "  Listen  I  " 

At  that  moment  a  waft  of  night  air  bore  to  their 
ears  the  sullen  booming  of  distant  war  drums*  and 
the  wild  chorus  of  quavering  yells  with  which  the 
frenzied  savages  across  the  river  greeted  Pontiac 's 
declaration  of  war  against  the  hated  English. 

"By  Heaven,  Hester  I  I  believe  you  are  right," 
cried  Gladwyn,  as  he  listened  to  these  ominous 
sounds.  "At  any  rate,  I  will  accept  your  warning, 
and  make  such  preparations  as  will  show  those 
devils  that  we  are  not  to  be  caught  napping." 


4 


i 


CIIAPTEU  X 


rONTIAC    DECLAKKS    WAU 


Although  GlaJwyn  caused  half  of  his  force  to  he 
kept  under  arms  that  niglit,  and  (h)uhled  his  sentries, 
nothing  occurred  to  disturh  the  settlement.  In  the 
morning,  as  the  rising  sun  dispelled  the  fleecy  mist- 
clouds  from  above  the  river,  a  fleet  of  canoes  was 
seen  crossing  from  the  eastern  shore.  These  efi^eoted 
a  landing  at  some  distance  ahove  the  fort,  and  soon 
afterwards  the  wide,  open  common  behind  it  was 
animated  by  the  presence  of  hundreds  of  Indians. 
There  were  stately  warriors  in  paint  and  blankets, 
young  braves  stripped  to  the  waist-cloth  foi*  a  game 
of  ball,  maidens  whose  cheeks  were  ruddy  with  ver- 
milion, robed  in  embroidered  and  beaded  garments 
of  fawn  skin,  and  naked  children,  frolicking  like  so 
many  puppies.  Save  in  the  occasional  scowling  face 
and  preoccupied  air  of  soma  dark-browed  warrior, 
and  a  slow  but  noticeable  gathering  of  these  near 
the  principal  gate  of  the  fort,  tliere  was  nothing  to 
arouse  susp;  ^ion  or  indicate  that  these  visiters  had 
any  save  the  most  friendly  feelings  toward  the 
whites. 

Pontiac  having  sent  word  to  Major  Gladwyn  that 

IT  66 


f 


fi 


m 


66 


AT   WAR   WITH  PONTIAC 


he  desired  to  meet  the  white  chief  in  council,  about 
ten  o'clock  the  Indian  leader  and  some  sixty  of  his 
principal  men  were  seen  approaching  in  single  file 
from  the  direction  of  the  bridge  across  Parent's 
creek,  a  mile  and  a  half  north  of  the  fort.  As  they 
drew  near  the  great  gateway,  it  was  noticed  that  in 
spite  of  the  heat  of  the  day  every  warrior  was 
wrapped  to  the  chin  in  his  gayly  colored  blanket. 
The  faces  of  all  were  streaked  with  ochre,  vermilion, 
white,  and  black  paiht,  while  from  their  scalp-locks 
depended  plumes  of  eagle,  hawk,  or  turkey  feathers, 
indicative  of  their  rank  or  prowess  in  battle. 

As  the  great  gate  was  swung  open  to  admit  this 
barbaric  procession,  they  entered  the  fort  with  stately 
tread  and  in  grave  silence,  led  by  the  mighty  chief, 
who,  with  proudly  lifted  head  and  flashing  eyes, 
looked  every  inch  a  forest  king.  Suddenly  he 
started,  uttered  a  deep  ejaculation,  and  half  turned 
as  though  to  retreat.  On  eithtr  side  of  the  street 
down  which  he  must  pass  to  the  council-house  was 
drawn  up  a  motionless  line  of  red-coated  soldiers. 
Above  them  their  fixed  bayonets  glinted  ominously 
in  the  bright  sunlight.  Behind  them  every  house 
was  closed,  and  at  tlie  street  corners  stood  groups  of 
stalwart  fur  traders,  surrounded  by  their  half-savage 
employees,  all  armed  to  the  teeth.  In  all  these 
rigid  figures  there  was  a  grim  air  of  determination, 
though  no  sound  was  to  be  heard  save  the  measured 
throbbing  of  an  unseen  drum. 


PONTIAC   DECLARES   WAU 


67 


i 


It  is  no  wonder  that  Pontiac  started.  In  a  single 
glance  he  saw  that  he  had  been  betrayed  and  that 
his  plan  was  known.  Still,  his  hesitation  was  but 
momentary  and  hardly  noticed  ere  witli  immobile 
face  he  resumed  his  march  toward  the  great  council- 
house  that  stood  near  the  water's  edge,  on  the  fur- 
ther side  of  the  town.  As  the  procession  of  fierce 
warriors,  decked  in  the  fullest  glory  of  savage 
habiliment,  moved  slowly  down  the  street,  fright- 
ened faces  gazed  furtively  at  them  from  behind  half- 
closed  blinds,  while  the  regular  tap  of  the  unseen 
drum  seemed  to  assume  an  angrier  tone,  as  though 
impatient  to  break  forth  in  the  furious  rattle  of  a 
"charge." 

In  the  council-house  the  Indians  found  Gladwyn 
and  his  officers  seated  in  a  semicircle  at  the 
upper  end,  waiting  to  receive  them.  They  also 
noted  that  each  of  these,  besides  being  in  full  uni- 
form, wore  his  sword  and  a  brace  of  pistols.  At  this 
additional  evidence  of  the  discovery  of  their  design, 
and  that  they  liad  placed  themselves  completely 
within  the  enemy's  power,  the  warriors  exchanged 
uneasy  glances,  and  seemed  inclined  to  make  a  rush 
for  the  door  rather  than  seat  themselves  on  the  mats 
prepared  for  them. 

"Why,"  demanded  Pontiac,  "do  I  see  so  many  of 
my  white  brother's  young  men  standing  outside  with 
guns  in  their  hands  ?  " 

Gladwyn  re[)lied   tliat  it  was  customary  for  his 


!•  'I 


■Ki 


:^:i 


;    -J 


:1! 


II 


{■  ■m\ 


68 


AT  WAR  wnii  roXTlAC 


soldiers  to  go  through  with  an  armed  drill  every 
day. 

When  the  Indians  were  finally  seated,  one  of  them 
filled,  lighted,  and  handed  to  Pontiac  the  great 
chief's  own  sn[)erb  calumet.  Its  red  stone  bowl, 
which  held  a  (quarter  of  a  pound  of  tobacco,  was 
carved  witli  rare  skill,  and  its  long  stem  was  curi- 
ously inlaid  witli  sliell-work,  ])esides  being  orna- 
mented with  quills  and  feathers.  After  each 
member  of  the  council,  white  as  well  as  red,  begin- 
ning with  Gladwyn,  had  slowly  drawn  a  whiff  from 
this  miglity  calumet,  and  it  came  again  to  Pontiac, 
he  rose  and  said:  — 

^^hi  token  of  the  peace  which  T  desire  shall  always 
exist  between  the  red  man  and  his  wliite  brother  I 
now  present  this  pipe  to  these  friends,  that  they  may 
keep  it  forever.  Tliat  its  message  may  be  heard 
with  open  ears,  T  deliver  it  to  the  care  of  the  oldest 
among  you,  to  him  whose  hair  is  white  with  the 
wisdom  of  many  years." 

Tluis  saying,  the  chief  stepped  forward  and  laid 
the  gorgeous  calumet  across  the  knees  of  Major 
Hester,  while  a  grunt  of  approbation  came  from  the 
tluoats  of  those  belli ud  him.  Gladwyn,  who  alone 
of  tiie  asseml)h3d  whites  knew  the  meaning  of  this 
act,  cast  a  startled  and  suspicious  glance  at  the  vet- 
eran soldier  thus  sincfled  out  for  some  other  fate  tlian 
death,  while  the  recipient  himself  was  noticeably 
embarrassed  by  llie  incident. 


THE   INDIAN   CHIEF   MEDITATF.S    TKEACHI.RY   TO   Till,   KNGLLSII    OlFlLi:RS. 


'II 

'I 

.III 


t  Hi 


S.t;jl  |;j 


'J 


4:1 


rONTIAC   DECLARES   WAR 


69 


But  the  attention  of  all  was  immediately  occu- 
pied by  other  things.  Holding  a  splendid  belt  of 
wampum  in  his  hands,  Pontiac  was  now  addressing 
Gladwyn  with  the  eloquence  for  which  he  was  so 
justly  famed.  He  recounted  the  many  outrages 
suffered  by  his  people  at  the  hands  of  the  English, 
and  especially  their  fur  traders.  Against  these  he 
demanded  protection.  He  spoke  for  nearly  an  hour, 
during  which  time  his  every  gesture  was  keenly 
watched  by  the  English  officers,  who  feared  that  in 
spite  of  their  precautions  he  might  still  attempt 
some  desperate  move. 

Pontiac  was  in  a  dilemma.  It  was  customary  at 
the  close  of  a  speech  to  present  the  belt  of  wampum, 
which  the  speaker  always  held,  to  him  who  was  ex- 
pected to  reply.  To  omit  this  formality  would  be 
equivalent  to  a  declaration  of  war.  It  had  been 
understood  that  his  followers  were  to  fall  upon  the 
English  officers  the  moment  he  should  make  this 
presentation,  and  there  had  been  no  opportunity  to 
alter  this  prearranged  programme.  So  the  great 
chief  hesitated,  held  out  the  fatal  belt,  and  then 
made  a  motion  as  though  to  withdraw  it.  GL'  wyn 
extended  his  hand.  As  he  did  so,  there  came  i  rat- 
tling clash  of  arms  from  a  passageway  at  the  lower 
end  of  the  hall  and  a  deafening  din  of  drums. 

Pontiac  started,  dropped  the  belt  of  v^ampum, 
thrust  a  hand  within  his  blanket,  as  though  to  draw 
a  weapon,  reconsidered,  folded  his  arms,  and  stood 


I 


1-   ■!(   *! 


mm 


70 


AT  WAR    Willi    1'(»N'1IAC 


motionless.  In  an  instant  all  was  again  silent,  and 
Gladwyn  rose  to  address  the  coui\cil  as  though  noth- 
ing out  of  the  ordinary  had  liappened. 

He  told  the  Indians  that  he  would  consider  their 
grievances,  and  would  do  all  that  lay  in  his  power 
to  afford  them  protection,  so  long  as  they  deserved 
it.  At  the  same  time  he  threatened  them  with  a 
terrible  punishment  should  they  undertake  to  remedy 
their  wrongs  by  any  act  of  aggression  against  the 
whites.  Then  he  dismissed  the  council,  and  the 
crestfallen  warriors  were  allowed  to  leave  the  fort. 
Before  departing,  Pontiac  notified  the  English  com- 
mander that  he  should  come  again  in  a  few  days  for 
another  talk ;  but  Gladwyn  only  turned  contemptu- 
ously away,  witliout  deigning  a  reply. 

Two  days  later  the  common  behind  the  fort  v/as 
again  thronged  with  Indians,  representing  four 
tribes,  and  from  out  the  throng  Pontiac  again  ap- 
proached the  gate.  It  was  barred  against  him,  and 
when  he  demanded  admittance,  Gladwyn  himself 
replied,  ordering  liim  to  begone,  as  neither  he  nor 
liis  rabble  would  again  be  received. 

Furious  with  rage,  the  chief  strode  away,  and 
ordered  his  warriors  to  withdraw  beyond  gunshot, 
but  to  see  that  no  Erglishman  was  allowed  to  leave 
the  fort.  Then  iajnchinu'  a  canoe  he  crossed  the 
river  to  his  own  vUlao"'  which  he  ordered  to  be 
removed  to  the  wester:'  '  jnk. 

While  he  was  thus     coupled,  his  infuriated  fol- 


PONTIAC   DECLARES    WAR 


71 


lowers  were  engaged  in  the  murder  mid  scalping  of 
two  English  families  who  dwelt  beyond  reach  of  the 
fort.  That  night  the  inmates  of  Detroit,  armed  and 
sleepless,  listened  with  heavy  hearts  to  the  doleful 
sounds  of  the  scalp  dance,  mingled  with  the  exult- 
ing yells  of  the  war  dance,  and  while  prepared  to 
sell  their  lives  as  dearly  as  possible,  wondered  how 
long  their  frail  defences  would  withstand  the  fierce 
onset  which  they  momentarily  expected  would  be 
made  against  them. 

Daylight  found  many  of  them,  exhausted  by  the 
night's  vigil,  dozing  at  their  posts.  Suddenly  the 
blood-curdling  war-whoop  arose  from  all  sides  at 
once,  a  rattling  volley  of  rifle-shots  pattered  against 
the  palisades,  and  a  swarm  of  yelling,  naked  figures 
leaped  from  the  surrounding  obscurity.  It  seemed 
as  though  the  impetuous  assault  must  succeed  from 
mere  force  of  numbers,  for  the  Indians  were  counted 
by  hundreds,  while  the  whites  were  but  a  handful. 


■,4i 


■',      I 


f:  'I 


I 


CHAPTER  XI 


MAJOR    HESTER   IS   TAKEN   PRISONEB 


In  spite  of  the  apparent  fury  of  the  attack,  and 
the  expectation  of  the  garrison  that  a  fierce  assault 
was  ab(.»i  .  to  be  made  on  their  slender  defences, 
nothing  of  the  kind  was  contemplated  by  the  Indians. 
Tliey  were  not  trained  to  that  fonii  of  warfare,  and 
when  they  found  that  Gladwyn  was  not  frightened 
into  a  surrender  by  noise  and  an  exhibition  of  force, 
they  contented  themselves  with  maintaining  a  vigor- 
ous fire  from  behind  barns,  fences,  bushes,  slight  ridges 
of  earth,  or  any  object  of  sufficient  size  to  shelter 
them  from  tlie  steady  return  fire  of  the  soldiers. 
One  .cluster  of  buildings,  within  half-gunshot  of  the 
fort,  sheltered  a  large  body  of  Indians,  who  from 
this  point  of  vantage  directed  a  ])articularly  galling 
fire  at  the  loop-hcles  in  the  palisades.  By  it  several 
of  the  defenders  were  wounded,  until  finally  a  cannon 
was  brought  to  bear  upon  the  hornet's  nest,  and  a 
quantity  of  red-bot  spikes  were  thrust  into  its  muz- 
zle. A  minute  after  its  discharge  flames  burst  from 
the  buildings,  i»nd  the  savages  who  had  occupied 
them  were  in  precipitate  flight,  followed  by  jeering 
shouts  and  a  parting  volley  from  the  soldiers. 

72 


i 


MAJOlt    IIKSTER   IS  TAKKN    rillSONEU 


73 


For  six  liours  was  tliis  travesty  of  battle  main- 
tained. Then  tlie  Indian  fire  slacikened,  and  finally 
ceiised  altogether.  Believing  the  affair  to  ))e  merely 
a  temporary  ontbreak  of  a  few  hot-headed  savages, 
that  nmst  quickly  blow  over,  Gladwyn  took  advan- 
tage of  this  lull  in  the  storm  to  send  out  two  Cana- 
dians under  a  flag  of  truce  to  investigate  the  cause 
of  dissatisfaction.  At  the  same  time  he  proposed, 
while  negotiations  were  in  progress,  to  secure  a 
supply  of  provisions  with  whicli  to  stand  a  siege. 

A  gate  being  opened  for  the  departure  of  the  am- 
bassadors, most  of  the  Canadian  inhiibitants  of  the 
fort  seized  the  opportunity  to  leave  it,  saying  that 
they  could  not  bear  to  remain  and  witness  the  ap- 
proaching slaughter  of  their  English  friends. 

In  a  short  time  Gladwyn 's  messengers  returned, 
saying  that  Pontiac  was  willing  to  arrange  terms, 
but  would  only  do  so  with  Major  Hester,  and  had 
expx^essed  a  strong  desire  for  a  visit  from  that  officer. 

"Go  back  and  tell  liim  I  will  see  him  and  his 
whole  cowardly  crew  hanged,  before  I  will  intrust 
the  life  of  a  single  Englishman  to  his  treachery!" 
exclaimed  the  commander,  angrily. 

"  Hold,  Gladwyn ! "  protested  Major  Hester. 
"It  is  better  that  one  life  should  be  risked  than 
that  all  should  be  endangered.  Nor  do  I  think  I 
should  be  in  any  serious  peril.  I  have  always  got 
along  with  the  redskins,  and  have  thus  far  found 
Pontiac  reasonable." 


1-     !|. 


!     ■ 


74 


AT   WAR    WITH   rONTIAC 


il 


"1  forgot.  He  did  present  the  calumet  to  you," 
replied  the  other,  with  ii  meaning  intonation. 

"  Do  you  dare  ui^i^iuate  —  ? "  began  Major  Hes- 
ter, with  a  dangerous  glitter  in  his  eye. 

"No,  Hester.  No,  I  do  not.  I  am  ashamed  of 
myself  and  liumbly  apologize!"  cried  Gladwyn. 
"H  you  insist  upon  placing  yourself  within  the 
power  of  yonder  savages,  I  shall  know  that  you  do 
so  from  the  loftiest  sense  of  duty,  with  a  full  knowl- 
edge that  you  jeopardize  your  life,  and  with  a  cour- 
age that  I  fear  I  for  one  could  not  exhibit." 

"  Thank  you,  Gladwyn.  That  was  said  manfully 
and  like  a  true  soldier.  I  shall  accept  this  mission 
because  it  is  plainly  in  the  line  of  my  duty  to  do  so. 
If  I  never  return  from  it,  I  charge  you  to  carry  a 
father's  blessing  to  my  children." 

The  fine  old  soldier,  in  full  uniform,  was  accom- 
panied to  the  gateway  by  all  the  officers  of  the  post. 
Ther,e  every  one  shook  hands  with  him,  bidding  him 
at  once  God-speed  and  farewell,  while  the  soldiers 
lined  the  ramparts,  and  as  he  emerged  from  the  gates 
saluted  him  with  a  rousing  British  clieer. 

The  major  was  escorted  by  the  two  aged  Canadians 
who  had  been  sent  out  in  the  first  place,  and  the 
little  party  had  not  covered  more  than  half  the  ground 
between  the  fort  and  Parent's  creek,  beyond  which 
lay  the  Ottawa  village,  ere  they  were  met  by  another 
Canadian  running  and  breathless.  He  implored 
them  to  turn  back,  saying  that  he   had   just  been 


t 


MAJOR   lli:STKR    IS    TAKKN    I'UISONKR 


76 


through  tliu  Imliiiii  vilhigo  and  was  convinced  by 
what  he  saw  and  heard  that  no  Englishman  could 
set  foot  within  its  limits  and  live.  Hut  Major 
Hester  steadfastly  refused  to  retreat,  and  insisted 
on  fulfilling  his  mission. 

At  length  they  crossed  the  creek,  mounted  the 
ridge  beyond,  and  saw  outspread  on  its  further  slope 
the  most  extensive  Indian  village  evei  known  to 
that  region.  The  mom>ent  the  hated  English  uni- 
form was  seen  by  the  inmates  of  the  many  lodges, 
they  swarmed  about  the  ambassadors  by  hundreds, 
the  men  with  scowling  brows,  the  squaws  and  chil- 
dren snatching  up  sticks,  stones,  and  clubs  as  they 
ran.  For  a  moment  the  stout  heart  of  the  old  sol- 
dier quailed,  for  he  imagined  he  was  to  be  subjected 
to  the  terrible  ordeal  of  the  gantlet. 

At  the  same  time  not  a  trace  of  emotion  appeared 
on  his  face,  as  calmly  folding  his  arms  he  stepped 
a  pace  or  two  in  front  of  his  shrinking  companions 
and  boldly  confronted  the  throng  of  yelling  savages. 
In  another  moment  they  would  have  overwhelmed 
him.  Suddenly  the  stately  form  of  Pontiac  appeared 
among  the  rabble,  and  at  the  sound  of  his  imperious 
voice  they  slunk  aside  like  whipped  curs.  Instantly 
the  tumult  was  allayed.  In  the  silence  that  fol- 
lowed, the  great  chief  greeted  the  British  officer  with 
a  grave  courtesy,  shook  his  hand,  and  conducted  him 
into  the  village. 

The  Ottawa  encampment  was  a  confused  assem- 


Nl 


v^  V^  ^> 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


h 


A 


'ir     ^^ 


r/- 


1.0 


I.I 


2f  |j4    ■■■ 


Its 


■  40 


IL25  HI  1.4 


1.6 


HiotDgraphic 

Sciences 

Corporatioii 


33  WiST  MAIN  STRKT 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  USM 

(716)872-4503 


'^ 


76 


AT    WAR   WITH   PONTIAC 


I 


blage  of  tall,  cone-shaped  lodges,  built  of  slender 
poles  siii>i)oiting  giea,t  sheets  of  bark  or  overlap- 
ping folds  of  fine  matting  so  closely  woven  from 
rushes  as  to  be  thoroughly  rain-proof.  Scores  of 
graceful  birch  canoes,  such  as  the  northern  tribes 
excel  in  making,  were  drawn  up  on  the  river  bank; 
paddles  and  spears  leaned  against  the  lodges, 
smoke-blackened  kettles  and  otlier  rude  cooking- 
utensils  were  scattered  about  the  smouldering  fires, 
and  a  throng  of  wolfish-looking  dogs  added  their 
discordant  baying  to  the  clamor  of  children. 

At  the  council  lodge,  which  was  conspicuous  from 
its  size,  Major  Hester  was  offered  a  seat  on  one  of  a 
circle  of  mats.  As  he  took  it,  the  other  mats,  as  well 
as  every  inch  of  standing-ioom,  were  immediately 
occupied  by  a  throng  of  warriors,  while  the  entrance 
was  crowded  by  many  others,  all  eager  to  catch  a 
glimpse  of  the  Englishman. 

After  the  tedious  ceremony  of  smoking  the  peace 
pipe  was  concluded,  Pontiac  delivered  a  short  ad- 
dress of  welcome,  to  which  the  major  responded. 
He  demanded  to  know  the  cause  of  the  morning's 
outbreak,  and  assured  the  Indians  that  their  just 
grievances  should  be  remedied,  provided  they  gave 
up  for  punishment  all  who  had  been  implicated  in 
the  murders  of  the  previous  day. 

The  major  resumed  his  seat  upon  the  conclusion 
of  his  remarks,  amid  a  profound  silence  that  lasted 
for  many  minutes.      Finally,   determined  to   learn 


\ 


MAJOR   HESTER   IS  TAKEN   PRISONER 


77 


the  worst  without  further  delay,  lie  again  rose  and 
said,  that  having  no  answer  to  his  questions,  he 
would  now  return  to  the  fort  and  report  to  the  white 
chief  that  his  red  brothers  desired  not  peace,  hut  war. 

Upon  this  Pontiac  signed  to  him  to  resume  his 
seat,  and  turning  to  the  two  Canadians,  said:  — 

"  Go  to  the  fort  and  tell  Major  Gladwyn  that  the 
white-haired  chief  will  sleep  among  the  lodges  of 
his  red  brothers.  Tell  him  that  the  liatchet  dng  up 
this  day  will  not  be  buried  so  long  as  an  Englishman 
remains  in  the  land  of  the  Algonquins.  Tell  him 
that  every  fort  from  the  Thunder  of  Waters  to  the 
Great  River  has  this  day  been  cut  off,  so  that  no  aid 
may  come  to  him.  Tell  him  that  the  soldiers  of  the 
French  king  are  alrctady  hastening  to  fight  beside 
their  red  brothers.  Tell  him  that  he  may  go  now 
and  go  in  peace;  but  if  he  tarries  beyond  the  setting 
of  another  sun,  the  wolves  of  the  forest  shall  feast 
on  the  bodies  of  his  red-coated  soldiers,  whil.  their 
scalps  shall  dry  in  Ottawa  lodges.  Go,  for  Pontiac 
has  spoken."  • 

With  trembling  alacrity  the  Canadiar.s  obeyed  the 
mandate,  and  with  their  departure  Major  Hester 
realized  that  he  was  indeed  a  prisoner  in  the  hands 
of  a  relentless  foe.  While  wondering  as  to  liis 
ultimate  fate,  he  was  conducted  by  Pontiac  to  a 
comfortable  French  frame-house  standing  just  beyond 
the  Indian  village,  and  informed  that  this  was  to 
be  his  lodging. 


1 


f 

1 


i''« 


if) 


''Vn 


m 


78 


AT   WAR   WITH  PONTIAC 


"Here,"  said  Pontiac,  "shall  my  brother  dwell 
in  safety;  but  let  him  not  set  foot  outside.  My 
young  men  are  angry,  and  their  guns  are  quick  to 
shoot.  Even  in  the  dark  their  eyes  are  opened  wide 
by  the  sight  of  an  English  scalp." 

"I  suppose  that  as  your  prisoner  I  must  submit 
to  your  orders,"  replied  Major  Hester,  "though  why 
you  don't  put  an  end  to  this  farce  and  kill  me  at 
once  I  fail  to  comprehend." 

"Did  the  white-haired  chief  kill  me  when  I  slept 
in  the  house  of  the  two  trees  ?  "  demanded  Pontiac. 

"When  did  you  ever  sleep  in  TaAvtry  House? 
Certainly  you  never  did  with  my  knowledge  and 
consent." 

"  Many  years  have  passed,  and  there  has  been  much 
fighting  since  that  time ;  but  surely  my  brother  has 
not  forgotten  Songa  the  Ottawa?" 

"  No.  I  remember  him  well ;  but  what  has  he  to 
do  with  this  present  affair  ?  " 

"I,"  replied  the  chief,  drawing  himself  proudly 
up  to  his  full  height,  "am  Pontiac ;  but  I  was  Songa; 
and  as  Major  Hester  saved  the  life  of  Songa,  so  Pon- 
tiac saves  the  life  of  Major  Hester,  by  detaining  him 
in  this  place  while  the  English  fort  is  wiped  from 
the  face  of  the  earth  and  all  within  it  are  put  to 
death." 


\ 


CHAPTER   XII 


DONALD  AT   JOHNSON   CASTLE 


Some  two  weeks  after  the  events  just  narrated,  a 
youth,  tanned  to  the  swarthiness  of  an  Indian,  whose 
hair  was  long  and  unkempt,  and  whose  well-worn 
suit  of  buckskin  evidenced  hard  and  prolonged  travel, 
paced  impatiently  to  and  fro  in  the  anteroom  of  Sir 
William's  private  office  at  Johnson  Castle.  Although 
his  moccasined  feet  made  no  sound  on  the  uncarpeted 
floor,  his  movements  seemed  to  annoy  the  elder  of 
two  officers  who,  in  handsome  uniforms,  occupied 
a  window-seat  at  one  side  of  the  room,  and  were 
evidently  waiting  for  somebody  or  something  as 
patiently  as  their  natures  would  permit. 

"  Confound  the  fellow !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  Why 
can't  he  sit  still  and  possess  his  soul  in  patience,  like 
the  rest  of  us,  instead  of  tramping  up  and  down  like 
the  wild  beast  he  looks  ?  " 

"  He  doesn't  make  much  noise  about  it,"  laughed 
the  other. 

"No,  hang  him!  I  wish  he  did.  That  cat-like 
tread  of  his  is  unendurable." 

"  He  looks  anxious,  and  doubtless  has  urgent  busi- 
ness with  Sir  William  that  suffers  from  delay." 

7» 


il 


m 

J! 


♦  t 


Hi 


*«' 


80 


AT   WAR   WITH   I'ONTIAC 


"Nonsense,  Christie!  you  are  too  good  natured. 
His  business  proba])ly  concerns  payment  for  some 
game  he  has  brouglit  in  for  sale ;  for  I  take  it  he 
is  one  of  tliese  American  hunters  we  have  heard  so 
much  of  lately.  Whatever  it  is,  it  certainly  can't 
compare  in  urgency  with  ours,  and  yet  we  have  sat 
here  like  lambs  for  nearly  an  hour,  while  he  has 
waited  barely  half  that  time.  By  the  great  horn 
spoon !  If  his  serene  highness  does  not  admit  us 
to  his  presence  in  a  few  minutes  more,  I  shall  beard 
him  in  his  den,  and  demand  audience  in  the  name  of 
the  king.  It  is  simply  maddening  to  think  of  Cuyler 
carrying  the  Rothsay  party  farther  and  farther  away 
with  each  minute,  and  having  the  beauty  all  to  him- 
self. Of  course  you  don't  care,  since  it  was  decided 
that  they  travel  by  the  north  shore  of  the  lake,  while, 
as  I  underatand  it,  your  beastly  post  lies  somewhere 
on  the  south  shore.  With  me,  though,  it  is  different. 
My  destination  being  the  same  as  hers,  I  naturally 
expected  to  be  her  travelling  companion  and  enjoy 
a  fair  share  of  her  charming  society.  Now  what, 
with  dancing  attendance  for  a  week  on  Sir  Jeffry, 
and  this  abominable  delay,  I  fear  my  chances  of  over- 
taking the  expedition  are  very  slim.  By  the  way,  I 
heard  somewhere  that  the  little  Rothsay 's  name  is 
not  Rothsay,  after  all.  Do  you  know  if  that  is  true, 
and  if  so,  what  her  name  really  is  ?  " 

"  I  believe  it  is  Hester,  —  Edith  Hester,"  answered 
the  young  officer,  who  was  addressed  as  Christie. 


I 


i 


DONALD  AT  JOHNSON   CASTLE  M 

"I  wonder  how  you  always  manage  to  find  out 
such  things?"  remarked  the  other,  reflectively.  "  By 
Jove!"  he  added,  "Hester  is  the  name  of  that  major 
duffer  whose  message  to  Sir  Jeffry  caused  my  delay ; 
I  wonder  if  they  can  be  relations  ?  " 

"  Oave.  Rustieo  aliquid  siibolet^'^  warned  Christie, 
with  a  significant  glance  toward  the  third  occupfint  of 
the  room,  who  had  paused  in  his  restless  walk  and 
was  regarding  them  intently. 

Before  the  elder  man  could  repl}^  he  stepped  to 
where  they  were  sitting  and  said  quietly  to  the  young 
officer  who  had  just  spoken :  — 

"Pardon  my  presumption  in  thus  addressing  a 
stranger,  sir,  but  I  feel  it  my  duty  to  remind  you 
that  the  word  rusticus  may  receive  several  interpre- 
tations. In  one  sense,  it  cannot  be  exchanged  be- 
tween gentlemen  without  creating  ill  feelings.  Its 
use  by  Terence  —  " 

Ere  the  sentence  could  be  completed,  and  while 
the  bewildered  officers  were  gazing  at  this  backwoods 
expounder  of  the  classics  much  as  they  might  have 
regarded  an  apparition,  a  door  was  flung  open,  and 
Sir  William  Johnson  appeared  with  an  anxious  ex- 
pression on  his  ruddy  and  usually  jolly  face. 

"Ah,  general,"  exclaimed  the  officer  who  had 
just  declared  his  intention  of  bearding  the  general 
in  his  den,  "  we  had  begun  to  think  —  " 

"  Glad  you  had,  sir !  Glad  you  had !  Pray  keep 
it  up  for  a  few  minutes  longer  while  I  confer  with 


I 


in 

I 

h 

i! 


i<1 


Ml  AT   WAR   WITH   PONTIAC 

this  gentleman.  His  business  is  of  such  a  nature 
as  to  take  precedence  of  all  other.  Hester,  my  dear 
fellow,  step  this  way." 

"Rather  a  go!  eh,  BuUen?"  remarked  Ensign 
Christie,  as  the  two  men  stared  blankly  at  the  door 
just  closed  in  their  faces. 

"  Well !  By  Jove  !  "  gasped  the  other.  **  If  His 
Majesty's  officers  were  never  snubbed  before,  two 
of  them  have  been  given  a  jolly  big  dose  of  it 
this  time.  All  on  account  of  that  leather-jerkined 
young  savage,  too.  I  swear  I'll  have  my  man 
insult  him  and  give  him  a  thrashing  at  the  first 
opportunity." 

"  You  seem  to  forget,"  suggested  Christie,  gravely, 
"  that  your  *  young  savage '  was  discoursing  most 
learnedly  upon  the  idiosyncrasies  of  the  Latin  tongue 
when  Sir  William  interrupted  and  called  him  *my 
dear  fellow.'  " 

"  By  Jove !  you  are  right ! "  cried  Bullen.  '-  Possibly 
he  is  a  gentleman  in  disguise,  —  best  disguise  I  ever 
saw,  —  and  in  that  case  I  can  call  him  out.  You'll 
act  for  me,  old  man,  of  course  ?  " 

"  Certainly,"  laughed  Christie ;  "  but  you  lose  sight 
of  the  fact  that,  as  the  challenged  party,  he  will  have 
the  choice  of  weapons.  Suppose  he  should  select 
hunting-rifles  at  one  hundred  paces  ?  " 

"  Horrible  !  "  exclaimed  Builen.  "  I  say,  though, 
he  couldn't  do  that  and  be  a  genUeman  at  the  same 
time.    Oh  dear,  no  !     Unless  he  names  swords  or  pis- 


DONALD   AT  JOHNSON   CASTLK 


83 


tola,  —  the  only  gentlemanly  weapons, — T  sliall  Ix' 
compelled  to  withdiaw  in  favor  of  Tuninias." 

"  There  is  another  i)oint  to  be  considered,"  con- 
tinued Christie,  who,  tall,  handsome,  and  easy-going, 
delighted  in  dialling  his  pompous  and  peppery  com- 
panion, whose  abbreviated  stature  had  only  gained 
admittance  to  the  service  through  high  heels  and  a 
powerful  influence.  "•  Did  you  notice  that  Sir  Will- 
iam addressed  your  *  young  savage  '  as  Hester?" 

"  Oh,  by  Jove  !  Yes ;  now  that  you  mention  it," 
cried  the  other,  with  an  accent  of  despair.  "  And 
you  said  her  name  was  Hester,  too.  The  adorable 
little  Rothsay  to  whom  I  had  even  proposed  to  pro- 
pose. H  this  is  a  sample  of  her  family  though ! 
But,  of  course,  it  can't  be.  It  would  be  too  incredi- 
ble. She  is  an  angel ;  while  he  —  well,  he  isn't, 
and  therefore  cannot  be  even  a  remote  connection." 

Just  here  the  door  was  again  opened,  and  Sir  Will- 
iam, followed  by  the  subject  of  their  conversation, 
re-entered  the  room. 

"  Well,  general !  "  began  the  ever-impatient  Bullen. 
"  I  trust  you  are  not  going  to  detain  us  here  much 
longer.  It  is  of  the  utmost  importance  that  I  should 
reach  Detroit  as  speedily  as  possible." 

"Ah,  yes,"  replied  the  general,  who  knew  that 
Paymaster  Bullen  had  obtained  his  present  detail 
solely  for  the  sake  of  furthering  certain  schemes  of 
his  own.  "I  understand  that  you  are  going  to  in- 
vestigate the  unaccountable   disappearance  of  a  red 


I': 


I 


84 


AT   WAR   WITH    PONTIAC 


I 


blanket  .and  ii  plug  of  tobacco  from  tbc  quartermas- 
ter's stores  at  Detroit." 

"  Not  only  that,  Sir  William,  but  T  am  to  make  a 
very  thorough  inquiry  into  the  unaccounted-for  dis- 
appearance of  a  great  many  i-ed  blankets,  and  a  great 
many  plugs  of  tobacco,  and  a  great  many  other 
things  jis  well,"  answered  the  little  paymaster, 
warmly. 

"  Very  well,  sir,"  replied  the  general.  "  If  that  is 
the  sole  object  of  your  journey,  you  need  not  go 
beyond  this  room  to  acquire  all  necessary  informa- 
tion. I  can  tell  you  what  became  of  tiie  goods  in 
question,  and  who  is  responsible  for  their  disappear- 
ance. I  am  indirectly  ;  though  my  very  dear  friend. 
Major  Graham  Hester,  recently  in  command  at 
Detroit,  acting  by  my  advice,  was  the  agent  through 
whom  they  were  distributed  in  the  shape  of  presents 
to  the  warlike  western  tribes.  By  this  means,  and 
through  his  most  excellent  judgment  in  Indian  affairs. 
Major  Hester  has  succeeded  in  averting,  until  now, 
a  bloody  war,  which  has  been  imminent  at  any  time 
during  the  last  three  years.  Now,  owing  to  a  parsi- 
mony that  withholds  those  few  paltiy  dollars'  worth 
of  presents  and  the  criminal  stupidity  of  some  of  our 
newly  arrived  officers,  we  are  on  the  eve  of  the  most 
serious  native  outbreak  this  country  has  ever  wit- 
nessed. As  it  is  under  the  leadership  of  Pontiac, 
a  man  who  I  honestly  believe  would  be  unexcelled 
among   the   commanders   of   the  world  had  he  the 


DONALD   AT  JOHNSON  CA8TLK 


86 


advantages  of  t'ducatioii  find  onvironnient,  it  is  cer- 
tain to  [novo  a  very  f<Mniiclal)le  affair." 

"  Do  1  undei'stand  you,  sir,  that  this  outbreak  has 
already  taken  phieo?"  demanded  Knsign  C'hristie, 
who  had  just  been  assigned  to  his  fii-st  independent 
command,  —  that  of  l*res(iue  Isle. 

"My  private  despatches  from  Major  Hester  give 
me  every  reason  for  that  belief,"  was  the  answer; 
**  though  Gladwyn  docs  not  mention  it.  Ensign 
Hester,  wlio  brings  these  despatches,  confirms  his 
father's  warning.  He,  moreover,  informs  me  that 
the  Senecas  have  joined  the  conspiracy,  he  and  liis 
companion  having  had  a  narrow  escape  from  a  west- 
bound party  of  that  tribe.  As  it  was,  the  Indians 
stole  their  canoe,  leaving  them  to  make  their  way  on 
foot  for  over  two  hundred  miles  through  the  forest 
to  this  place.  Thus,  too,  they  missed  meeting  with 
Cuyler's  command,  which  they  were  charged  to  warn 
of  the  threatened  danger." 

"  May  I  ask  if  this  is  Ensign  Hester  ? "  inquired 
Christie,  turning^  with  an  engaging  smile  toward  the 
leather-clad  young  stranger. 

"  Bless  my  soul !  Yes.  Haven't  you  met  him  ? 
Ensign  Christie  and  Paymaster  BuUen,  permit  me  to 
present  Ensign  Donald  Hester  of  the  60th,  son  of 
my  dear  friend  the  major,  and  brother  of  the  very 
prettiest  girl  I  know.  By  the  way,  lad,  I  believe  I 
haven't  told  you  the  woi*st  bit  of  news  yet.  It  is 
that  your  giddy  sister  has  persuaded  Madam  Roth- 


'1 


! 


•ill 


m 


u 

■I 


I"! 


\ltl- 


■  i 


:,i 


80 


A'l    WAR    WITH    I'ONTIAC 


say  to  tjike  lier  to  Di^troit  as  a  (lolijjjiitfiil  surprise  for 
your  father.  They  aci'oinpaiiy  Cuylcr's  expedition 
by  espeeial  pennission  of  the  pfeiienil,  who  of  course 
never  doubted  that  in  a  time  of  profound  peace  the 
journey  might  l^e  made  in  safety.  And  Cuyler,  who 
did  not  expect  to  leave  before  this  time,  has  already 
been  gone  a  week,  his  movements  having  been  greatly 
hastened,  I  fancy,  by  impetuous  Miss  Edith." 

**  I  had  already  heard  something  of  this,"  answered 
Donald,  with  a  meaning  glance  at  the  two  officers, 
"and  had  made  up  my  mind  to  start  at  once  on 
Cuyler's  trail,  with  a  view  to  overtaking  and  —  please 
God  —  warning  him  in  time." 

"So  be  it,  lad.  Much  tis  I  hate  to  have  you  go 
without  first  taking  a  spell  of  rest,  it  is  so  clearly  the 
thing  to  do  that  I  cannot  but  bid  you  God-speed," 
exclaimed  Sir  William. 

"  Mr.  Hester,"  said  Christie,  "  I  beg  you  will  for- 
give and  forget  the  rudeness  of  which  I  was  guilty  a 
few  minutes  since.  I  ought  to  have  recognized  a  gen- 
tleman at  sight  under  any  conditions,  and  am  ashamed 
to  confess  that  for  the  moment  I  failed  to  do  so." 

"  It  is  not  at  all  to  be  wondered  at,  Mr.  Christie," 
answered  Donald,  grasping  the  other's  extended  hand, 
"  and  as  I  have  already  forgotten  the  incident,  I  can 
find  nothing  to  forgive." 

"And  will  you  allow  me,  as  a  great  favor,  to 
accompany  you  on  ihis  return  trip  so  far  as  our 
ways  lie  together  ?  " 


DONALD   AT  JOHNSON  CASTLE  IT 

**  Gladly,  though  I  warn  you  that  I  8hall  travel  fast 
and  hard." 

**I  will  risk  it,"  laughed  Christie,  "and  to  a  novice 
in  woodcraft  like  myself  I  know  that  such  companion- 
ship as  youi-s  will  prove  invaluable." 

"Well,  hang  it  all,  Christie!  If  you  are  going,  I 
don't  see  why  I  shouldn't  go  too,"  sputtered  BuUen, 
and  while  Donald  would  gladly  have  dispensed  with 
the  paymaster's  company,  he  could  not  well  frame  an 
excuse  for  so  doing. 


■S  tj 


II 

i 


'' 


k 


CHAPTER   XIII 

PAYMASTEIl    BULLEN   AND   HIS  WONDERFUL  TUB 

Though  Donald  had  not  the  art  to  rid  himself 
of  an  undesirable  travelling-companion,  Fate,  in 
the  shape  of  a  tin  bath-tub,  interposed  ir  his  behalf. 
This  tub  was  the  little  paymaster's  pride  and  delight, 
for  in  a  measure  it  was  his  own  invention.  Having 
had  it  constructed  in  England  especially  for  use  in 
America,  he  had  become  so  enamored  of  it  that  by 
this  time  he  would  sooner  have  parted  with  any 
other  possession.  It  was  a  round  affair,  about  three 
feet  in  diameter,  had  a  high  back,  was  painted  green 
on  the  outside  and  white  within.  Here  its  resem- 
blance to  ordinary  bath-tubs  ended,  and  its  individ- 
uality' became  apparent.  To  begin  with,  it  was 
built  with  double  sides  about  three  inches  apart,  and 
the  space  thus  formed  was  divided  by  metallic  par- 
titions into  many  compartments,  of  different  sizes, 
all  of  which  were  provided  with  close-fitting,  water- 
tight lids.  These  could  only  be  opened  by  the  press- 
ing of  a  cleverly  concealed  spring.  Not  only  did  this 
hollow  and  cellular  construction  give  great  buoyancy 
to  the  tub,  adapting  it  for  use  as  a  life  preserver,  but 
the  compartments  afforded  safe  storage  room  for  a 

.    8^ 


i^ 


PAYMASTER  BUhLEN  AND  HIS  WONDERFUL  TUB  89 

number  of  toilet  urticle.s,  such  as  are  generally  diffi- 
cult to  obtain  in  the  wilderness.  For  the  present  trip, 
the  paymaster  had  laid  in  a  liberal  supply  of  scented 
soap,  tooth  powder,  £)erfumery,  jiomades,  cosmetics, 
brushes,  shaving-utensils,  and  innumerable  other 
adjuncts  of  a  dandy's  dressing-table;  for  in  spite  of 
his  tendency  toward  stoutness  and  his  uncertain  ag<3, 
Paymaster  BuUen  was  emphatically  a  dandy,  with 
an  ambition  to  be  considered  a  beau. 

Equally  interesting  with  the  body  of  this  unique 
tub  was  its  high  back.  At  the  touch  of  a  spring  a 
small  panel  on  the  inside  slid  to  one  side,  disclosing 
a  mirror.  By  the  pressing  of  two  other  springs,  one 
on  each  side,  the  entire  back  could  be  tilted  to  the 
angle  most  comfortable  for  repose,  if  one  happened 
to  be  sitting  in  the  body  of  the  tub.  The  back  was 
covered,  as  though  for  protection,  by  a  shc^t  of  can- 
vas. This  could  be  drawn  up,  half  of  it  pulled 
forward  over  the  top,  like  a  hood  or  canopy.  Held 
in  this  position  by  an  ingenious  arrangement  of 
umbrella  ribs,  it  formed  a  protection  against  sun 
or  rain.  On  the  whole.  Paymaster  BuUen's  bath- 
tub was  a  remarkable  institution,  and  one  to  which 
he  was  so  attached  that  he  would  on  no  account 
undertake  a  journey  on  which  it  might  not  accom- 
pany him. 

"How  could  I  take  my  regular  morning  bath 
without  it?  or  how  could  I  transport  the  necessities 
of  my  toilet  so  safely  and  conveniently  in  any  other 


ll 


i 


f:    ■ 


i 


I  If 


i 


■■'^i 


m 


90 


AT   WAK   WITH  PONTIAC 


way?"  were  to  him  unanswerable  arguments  in  its 
favor. 

It  was  useless  to  reply  that  a  tub  might  be  dis- 
pensed with  in  a  country  abounding  in  streams  and 
lakes,  or  that  the  niceties  of  the  toilet  were  not 
always  considered  in  the  wilderness. 

He  would  answer,  that  while  the  crude  bathing 
facilities  afforded  by  nature  might  suffice  for  the 
primitive  requirements  of  the  untutored  savage,  a 
tub  was  a  necessity  to  Avhich  he,  as  a  refined  product 
of  civilization,  had  always  been  accustomed,  and  did 
not  propose  to  forego.  Also  that  to  the  toilet  of 
an  officei  and  a  gentleman  certain  well-recognized 
adjuncts  were  as  indispensable  in  the  wilderness  as 
in  the  town. 

He  spent  so  much  of  his  leisure  sitting  or  reclin- 
ing in  his  beloved  tub,  gloating  over  its  many  ad- 
mirable points  and  retlecting  upon  its  possibilities, 
that  his  brother  officers  rarely  spoke  ci  him  by  any 
other  name  than  that  of  "Diogenes." 

Donald  Hester  of  course  knew  nothing  of  the 
wonderful  tub,  nor  of  another  whim  of  the  pay- 
master's, Vvhicb  was  that  an  officer  should  never 
appear  in  public  save  in  uniform.  Consequently, 
when  the  little  man  approached  the  canoe  landing, 
resplendent  in  scarlet  and  gold,  and  followed  by  his 
valet  staggering  beneath  the  weight  of  the  tub, 
Donald  tuned  to  Ensign  Christie  for  an  explanation 
of  the  phenomenon,  while  the  latter  expressed  his 


i 


! 


PAYMASTER  BULLEN  AND  HIS  WONDERFUL  TUB     91 

feelings  by  a  prolonged  whistle.  Two  canoes  and 
several  Indian  canoemen  had  been  provi  led  by  Sir 
William  for  the  transportation  of  the  party.  Chris- 
tie had  exchanged  his  uniform  for  a  flannel  shirt, 
gray  breeches,  leggings,  and  moccasins,  and  except 
for  Mr.  Bullen's  presence  everything  was  in  readi- 
ness for  departure. 

"Hello,  Bullen!  you  surely  do  not  intend  to 
traverse  the  wilderness  in  full  fig.  ?"  cried  Sir  Will- 
iam, who  had  come  down  to  speed  his  guests.  "  You 
seem  to  forget  that  much  of  your  way  may  traverse 
the  country  of  an  enemy,  for  whose  rifles  your 
gorgeousness  would  offer  a  bright  and  shining 
mark." 

"Nor  to  take  your  man  with  you.  Of  course, 
Bullen,  you  don  t  intend  U)  do  that?"  remonstrated 
Christie. 

"If  that  is  your  luggage,  Mr.  Bullen,"  added 
Donald,  indicating  the  tub  with  a  gesture,  "I'm 
afraid  it  must  be  left  behind,  or  we  shall  never  over- 
take Cuyler." 

"Sir  William,"  retorted  the  paymaster  with  all 
the  dignity  he  could  assume,  "I  always  travel  in 
uniform.  Being  honored  with  the  wearing  of  His 
Majesty's  livery,  I  cannot  conceive  why  it  should 
not  be  displayed  before  his  enem.ies  as  well  as  to  his 
friends.  —  Mr.  Christie  :  never  having  journeyed 
without  an  attendant,  I  do  not  now  propose  to  at- 
tempt the  experiment. — Mr.   Hester:  I  have  very 


0; 


'I 


11 


;!i^ 


: 


I  ! 
il 

I'! 


■ '  - 


' 


02 


AT  WATJ  wrrrr  rr)NTiAC 


j^nivo  duties  to  [x.M'forin  at  Detroit,  iiii<l  feel  it  to  be 
of  importiiiiee  to  [H'oduce  an  iiH[)!'es.sioii  there  from 
tlie  very  first.  Therefore  I  lind  it  necessary  to  take 
witli  me  on  this  journey  certain  articles  that  a  less 
conscientious  person  might  possibly  leave  behind." 

"  But,  sir,  tliis  is  a  matter  of  life  or  death,  and  we 
dare  not  allow  anything  to  delay  us,"  said  Donald, 
earnestly. 

""  Very  well,  sir,  [)roceed  on  your  journey  without 
regard  to  me,  and  I  will  follow  in  such  fashion  as 
seems  to  me  best.  It  may  prove  that  I  shall  not  be 
so  very  far  behind  when  youi*  destination  is  reached. 
At  any  rate,  I  assure  you  that  I  am  thoroughly  capa- 
ble of  conducting  my  own  movements." 

"Oh  come,  Hullen!  Act  sensibly,  and  leave  all 
useless  lumber  behind,"  urged  Ensign  Christie. 

"Mr.  Christie,  I  always  act  sensibly,  according 
to  my  own  definition  of  the  word,  and  I  absolutely 
refuse  to  leave  my  tub  behind,"  replied  the  pay- 
master, in  a  frigid  tone. 

"(Tcntlemen,  I  cannot  delay  another  moment," 
cried  Donald,  who  was  in  a  fever  of  impatience. 
"  With  your  permission,  Sir  William,  Mr.  Christie 
and  I  will  take  the  smaller  of  these  canoes,  leaving 
the  other,  with  all  the  Indians,  for  Mr.  Bullen's 
service." 

"Go  ahead,  my  boy;  you  are  right.  Good-bye, 
and  God  bless  you !  "  answered  the  general,  heartily. 
So  in  another  minute  Donald  and  his  newly  acquired 


H  ':■ 


vi 


,1 


h 


t'li 


li'if 


THESE   PADDLED  THEIR   WAY   AGAINST   THE  SWHT  CURRENT  OF 

THE   MUHAWK. 


i 


i    1 


f 


PAYMASTER  BULLEN  AND  HIS  WONDERFUL  TUB     1)3 


friend  had  set  forth  on  their  long  journey.  Both 
wielded  p.addles,  for  Ensign  Christie  had  already 
seen  enough  of  service  in  America  to  have  gained  a 
fair  degree  of  skill  in  canoeing. 

For  hours  these  two  paddled,  poled,  and  tracked 
their  way  against  the  swift  current  of  the  Mohawk, 
until  utter  darkness  barred  their  further  progress. 
Then  they  made  a  blind  landing,  groped  about  for  a 
few  sticks,  kindled  a  small  fire  over  which  to  make 
a  pot  of  tea,  and  flung  themselves  down  for  a  few 
hours  of  sleep  on  the  bare  ground.  The  next  morn- 
ing they  were  up,  had  eaten  breakfast,  and  were  off 
by  daybreak.  Before  dark  of  that  day  they  had 
crossed  the  portage,  and  were  floating  with  the  cur- 
rent of  Wood  creek.  Only  pausing  at  the  block- 
house to  deliver  a  despatch  from  Sir  William,  thej' 
crossed  Oneida  lake  in  darkness,  and  spent  the 
night  at  Fort  BrewtJton.  The  following  night 
found  them  well  past  Oswego  and  camped  on  the 
shore  of  Lake  Ontario. 

In  all  this  ceaseless  labor,  Ensign  Christie  proved 
of  the  greatest  assistance,  and  heartily  commended 
himself  to  his  companion  by  his  unflagging  cheerful- 
ness. He  was  always  ready  to  jump  overboard,  at 
the  first  intimation  that  such  a  move  was  necessary, 
to  use  a  push-pole  or  paddle,  gather  wood,  or  to  per- 
form any  service  that  lay  within  his  power.  Often, 
as  the  young  men  made  their  swift  way  along  the 
south  shore  of  the  great  lake,  did  they  talk  of  Pay- 


i 


I 


m 


i  ¥  d 


04 


AT  WAR    WITH   PONTIAC 


I 


master  Bullen  and  wonder  what  had  become  of  him. 
Donald  was  inclined  to  believe  that  he  had  either 
returned  to  New  York,  or  still  remained  where  they 
had  left  him;  but  Christie  only  smiled,  and  said 
Bullen  was  such  a  queer  fish  that  there  was  no  pre- 
dicting what  he  might  or  might  not  do. 

On  the  evening  of  the  tliird  day  after  leaving 
Oswego,  shortly  before  sunset,  and  aided  by  a  strong 
breeze  blowing  up  the  lake,  they  ran  alongside  the 
canoe  landing  at  Fort  Niagara.  Major  Wilkins,  the 
commandant,  and  several  of  his  officers  met  them  as 
they  stepped  from  their  craft,  when  a  rapid  exchange 
of  introductions  and  news  was  at  once  begun. 

Suddenly  some  one  exclaimed,  "What  boat  is  that 
following  so  close  after  you?"  and,  looking  in  the 
direction  indicated,  all  saw  a  small  craft  driven  at 
a  high  rate  of  speed  by  both  sail  and  paddle,  rapidly 
approaching  the  landing. 

No  one  could  imagine  who  it  was,  but  many  con- 
jectures were  hazarded,  until  the  canoe  drew  near 
enough  for  its  occupants  to  be  distinguislied.  Then 
Ensign  Christie  shouted  with  unfeigned  amazement: 

"By  Jove!     It's  old  Bullen  himself  I  " 


CHAPTER     XIV 


A    WHITE   MEDICINE   MAN 


Ensign  Christie  was  right  in  his  conjecture,  for 
the  new  arrival  was  Paymaster  Bullen.  His  canoe, 
which  he  had  requisitioned  at  Oswego,  was  of  the 
largest  size,  and  in  addition  to  six  Indian  paddlers 
was  provided  with  a  square  sail,  for  use  before  fair 
winds.  In  the  middle  of  this  craft,  seated  in  his 
beloved  tub  as  on  a  throne,  appeared  the  doughty 
paymaster,  in  full  uniform.  This  included  a  cocked 
hat,  carefully  powdered  wig,  laced  coat,  sword, 
perfectly  fitting  breeches,  white  silk  stockings,  and 
high-heeled  pumps,  surmounted  by  large  silver 
buckles.  As  the  big  canoe  dashed  up  to  the  beach, 
it  was  noticed  that  its  native  crew  dropped  their 
paddles  and  flung  themselves  down  as  though  utterly 
exhausted.  With  a  contemptuous  glance  at  them, 
the  little  paymaster  stepped  carefully  ashore,  and 
addressing  the  commander  of  the  post,  who  advanced 
to  meet  him,  said :  — 

"  Major  Wilkins,  I  believe.  My  name  is  Bullen,  — 
Leonidas  Bullen, — and  I  hold  a  requisition  upon  you 
signed  by  Sir  Jeffry  Amherst,  for  a  boat  and  crew 
to  carry  me  with  all  speed  to  Detroit,  on  the  king's 


i 

I 


m 


■L4 


IS 


06 


AT  WAR   WITH   TONTIAC 


\ 


[\\\ 


business.  You  will  also  plousc  funiish  the  natives 
who  have  hroiij^'ht  nie  to  tliis  {Hnni  with  goods,  ac- 
conliiig  to  till!  su])j(uiie(l  list.  Take  tlieir  reeeipt  for 
same  and  peiinit  them  to  return  to  Oswego.  That 
is  all,  sir,  and  I  should  he  pleased  to  proceed  with 
the  least  possible  delay." 

"I  am  at  your  service,  paymaster,"  replied  Major 
Wilkins,  courteously,  as  he  glanced  over  the  papers 
just  handed  to  him,  "and  you  shall  be  forwarded 
with  all  speed.  But  you  will  surely  spend  the  night 
with  us.     We  —  " 

"Couldn't  think  of  it,  my  dear  sir!  couldn't 
think  of  it  for  a  moment,  delighted  as  I  should  be  to 
do  so,"  interrupted  the  new  arrival.  "You  see,  my 
mission  is  of  such  urgency.  Then,  too,  I  am  desir- 
ous of  overtaking  my  young  friends  Christie  and 
Hester  before —  By  Jove  I  there  they  are  now  I 
What  are  you  chaps  doing  here?  I  thought  you 
were  in  a  hurry  to  get  on." 

"  Oh,  Bullen  I  how  could  you  have  imagined  such 
a  thing?"  asked  Christie,  gravely,  as  he  shook  hands 
with  his  recent  travelling-companion.  "We  were 
in  haste  to  leave  Johnson  Castle,  to  be  sure,  but 
since  then  —  why,  my  dear  fellow,  we  have  simply 
loafed,  in  the  hope  that  you  would  overtake  us,  and 
having  waited  here  as  long  as  we  dared,  were  just 
about  to  retrace  our  course  in  search  of  you." 

"Yes  indeed,"  added  Donald,  readily  taking  the 
cue  from  his  friend ;  "  we  have  been  so  distressed  at 


A   WHITE   MEDICINE    MAN 


m 


your  non-appearance  that  we  really  could  not  have 
waited  any  longer.  Then,  too,  you  know  one  can 
so  easily  exhaust  the  resources  o'  a  place  like  this 
in  twenty-four  houi*s.'* 

"Twenty-four  hours!"  gasped  Bullen.  "Have 
you  chaps  really  been  here  twenty-four  hours?" 

"More  or  less,"  assented  Clu'istie,  cheerfully. 
" But  where  have  you  been  lingering  all  tliis  time? 
We  thought  you  must  have  returned  to  New  York. 
Oh,  I  remember!  There  were  attractions  at  Oswego. 
Eh,  Bullen !  you  fickle  dog,  you  ?  " 

"Confound  you!  I  haven't  lingered,"  sjnittered 
the  little  paymaster,  whose  face  was  rapidly  assum- 
ing an  apoplectic  hue. 

"Indeed,  you  have  not,  paymaster,"  broke  in 
Major  Wilkins,  coming  to  his  rescue,  "  for,  from  the 
Oswego  date  on  this  letter,  I  see  you  have  broken 
the  record  and  made  the  fastest  time  ever  known  be- 
tween here  and  there.  These  chaps  only  got  in  a  few 
minutes  ahead  of  you,  and  I'll  warrant  you  gave  them 
at  least  a  day's  start.     How  did  you  manage  it?" 

"  Oh,  you  villains ! "  cried  the  mollified  pay- 
master, shaking  his  fist  at  the  laughing  subalterns. 
"Never  mind,  I'll  get  even  with  you!"  Then,  to 
the  major,  he  replied:  "I  confess  I  was  somcAvhat 
impatient  to  get  here,  and  so  I  allowed  my  crew  to 
work  nights  as  well  as  in  the  daytime.  In  that  way 
we  came  through  without  a  stop,  save  such  as  were 
necessary  for  the  cooking  of  our  meals." 


II 


;(lf 

in; 


1,1 


!■ 


:  I , 


:  ;;-a 


98 


AT   WAR    WITH    PONTIAC 


I 


"But  I  never  lieai'd  of  such  a  thing  I"  exclaimed 
the  astonislied  major.  "It  is  all  I  can  do  to  keep 
Indian  crews  at  work  from  sunrise  to  within  an  hour 
of  sunset,  and  they  always  insist  on  being  in  camp 
iHjfore  dark.    What  inducements  did  you  offer  them?  " 

"None  at  all,"  replied  the  [iaymaster,  calmly.  "I 
just  let  them  have  their  own  way.  They  chose  to 
do  it.  1  expect  they  saw  I  was  in  a  hurry  and 
wanted  to  oblige  me." 

This  was  all  the  information  on  the  subject  that 
could  be  gleaned  from  the  paymaster  at  that  time; 
but  as  he  was  now  easily  persuaded  to  join  Donald 
and  Christie  in  remaining  at  the  post  over  night,  the 
oflicera  still  entertained  hopes  of  extracting  his 
secret.  In  this  they  finally  succeeded;  for  that  even- 
ing, after  the  little  man  had  been  mellowed  by  a 
capital  dinner,  he  consented  to  account  for  the  re- 
markable influence  he  had  gained  over  the  savages. 

"It  is  all  very  simple,  gentlemen,"  he  said,  "and 
is  merely  one  of  the  minor  triumphs  of  knowledge 
over  ignorance.  On  my  journey  from  Johnson 
Castle  to  the  lake  I  had  not  made  very  good  time, 
and  saw  that  only  by  heroic  measures  could  I  hope 
to  overtake  my  volatile  young  friends  here,  before 
they  passed  this  point.  At  Oswego  I  procured  a 
larger  craft  and  a  fresh  crew.  From  the  outset  I 
saw  that  these  fellows  regarded  my  innocent  tub  with 
a  certain  degree  of  suspicion,  and  soon  gave  them  to 
understand,  through  one  of  their  number  who  could 


A    WillTE   MKDICINE   MAN 


99 


\ 
I 

I' 


Speak  some  Enpflisli,  that  it  held  ji  powerful  fire- 
deiuoii.  He  was  (piite  ca[ial)le,  1  deidared,  of  de- 
stroying every  Indian  im  tlie  eontinent,  and  would 
be  at  lilxjity  to  do  so,  if  he  was  not  thrown  into  the 
great  thunder  waters  —  your  eataraiet,  you  under- 
stand—  on,  or  before,  the  first  day  of  the  new  moon, 
wliich  I  ealculated  would  be  visible  to-morrow  even- 
ing. 1  assured  them  that  his  power  was  nuujh  less 
on  water  than  on  land,  for  which  reason  I  could  not 
allow  his  prison  house  —  alias  my  batli-tub  —  to  be 
carried  ashore  short  of  this  i)lace.  With  all  this,  I 
gave  them  to  understand  that  I  was  something  of  a 
fire-king  myself,  for  which  reason  I  had  been  in- 
trusted with  this  im[)ortant  mission." 

"  But  I  don't  see  how  you  persuaded  the  beggars 
to  believe  in  such  rot,"  objected  Christie. 

"Ah,  my  dear  boy!  (xenius  can  find  ways  and 
means  for  persuading  Faith  to  any  belief.  These 
simple  children  of  nature  have  implicit  faith  in  the 
supernatural.  As  for  genius  —  well,  some  persons 
possess  it,  while  others  do  not,  and  modesty  forbids 
my  making  invidious  comparisons.  Seeing  by  their 
incredulous  smiles  that  the  several  members  of  my 
crew  were  inclined  to  doubt  my  statements,  and  were 
determined  to  pass  the  first  night  on  shore  as  usual, 
I  began  to  impersonate  the  Fire  King  as  soon  as  we 
made  a  landing.  To  begin  with,  I  ordered  my  man 
to  bring  me  a  cup  of  boiling  water,  as  I  was  thirsty. 
Being    a   well-trained   beggar,   he   obeyed   without 


III. 


)  , 


II 


■II 


i;  r 


m 


100 


AT  WAR   WITH  TONTIAC 


k 


■ 


: 


betraying  any  surprise.  Pretending  to  taste  it,  and 
declaring  that  it  was  too  cold,  I  threw  it,  cup  and 
all,  angrily  away.  Then  I  dipped  a  glass  of  water 
from  the  lake,  announcing  at  the  same  time  that  by 
the  power  of  my  magic  I  could  make  it  boil  more 
furiously  than  any  fire  that  ever  burned." 

"A  bold  statement.  By  Jove!  "  exclaimed  one  of 
the  officers,  who  were  following  this  narration  with 
closest  attention;  "but  did  you  make  it  good?" 

"Certainly,"  replied  the  paymaster,  gravely.  "T 
not  only  made  that  water  boil  furiously  within  two 
seconds,  but  immediately  drank  it.  You  see  I  hap- 
pened to  have  in  a  compartment  of  my  tub  an  effer- 
vescing powder,  which  I  find  a  wholesome  aperient. 
Making  a  magic  pass  with  my  hand,  I  dropped  a 
small  quantity  of  this  into  the  glass  undetected. 
The  effect  was  instantaneous,  and  as  the  liquid 
boiled  above  the  rim  of  the  glass  so  that  all  could 
see  it,  I  tossed  it  off,  remarking  casually  to  Tummas 
as  I  did  so,  that  when  I  called  for  boiling  water  I 
meant  water  that  was  actually  boiling,  and  not 
merely  warm." 

"  Well,  by  Jove  I  "  was  heard  in  admiring  accents 
from  various  corners  of  the  mess  table. 

"  My  guileless  savages  were  evidently  impressed, 
but  not  yet  inclined  to  move,"  continued  the  little 
paymaster,  without  noticing  the  interruption,  "so  I 
concluded  to  arouse  tliem  by  another  .and  more  star- 
tling exhibition  of  my  powers.     Having  hinted  that 


f' 


A    WHITE   MEDICINE   MAN 


101 


\\ 


the  little  fire  tUwils  of  the  forest,  which  1  fancy 
every  savage  has  seen,  at  one  time  or  another,  peer- 
ing at  him  from  rotten  tree  trunks,  logs,  or  stumps, 
might  be  attracted  by  the  proximity  of  the  great 
Fire  Demon,  I  strolled  oif  a  short  distance,  as  though 
to  search  for  them.  From  my  tub  I  had  previously 
taken  an  old  scratch  wig  and  a  small  box  of  phos- 
phorus paste,  for  which  I  have  a  certain  use.  It  was 
by  this  time  quite  dark.  With  my  paste  I  drew  the 
rude  outline  of  a  face  on  a  bit  of  bark,  that  I  stood 
at  the  base  of  a  tree.  Then  rubbing  some  of  the 
stuff  on  my  old  wig,  and  clapping  it  on  my  head,  I 
ran  back  to  camp,  shouting  that  I  had  found  one,  and 
that  he  had  attempted  to  seize  me  by  the  hair.  The 
savages,  who  had  been  lying  down,  sprang  to  their 
feetv  and  uttered  yells  of  terror  at  sight  of  my  blaz- 
ing head.  'There  he  is  now! '  I  shouted,  pointing 
back  to  the  phosphorescent  face.  *  Shoot  him  quick, 
or  he  will  catch  us ! ' 

"  Without  waiting  for  them  to  get  their  guns  from 
the  canoe,  I  picked  up  a  stone  and  let  it  drive  with 
all  my  might.  There  was  a  loud  explosion,  the 
dreadful  face  disappeared,  and  at  the  same  moment 
we  all  broke  for  the  canoe,  which  we  shoved  off  in  a 
hurry.  As  we  pulled  out  from  the  shore  I  nearly 
paralyzed  my  crew  by  tearing  off  the  old  wig  —  my 
scalp,  as  they  thought  —  and  flinging  it  into  the 
water,  where  we  could  distinguish  its  phosphores- 
cent glow  for  some  minutes.     After  that  experience, 


li 


u:; 


n 


■     !  t-  i 

J   ;u 

^^1 

1,  ■ 

1 

■i 

'  ■'[ 

:  ^      i 

-^t 

■i 

i 

Cfc 

1 

rl 

102 


AT   WAR   WITH   PONTIAC 


! 


\i 


my  slightest  wish  was  law  to  those  savages,  nor 
could  anything  have  tempted  them  to  pass  a  night 
on  shore  in  company  with  the  caged  Fire  Demon. 
They  are  now  confident  that  he  is  to  be  thrown  into 
the  thunder  waters  to-morrow,  and  so  I  want  them 
started  back  toward  Oswego  before  that  illusion  is 
dispelled.  Otherwise  my  influence  over  future  crews 
may  be  weakened.  Now,  gentlemen,  you  have  my 
simple  receipt  for  rapid  travelling  in  the  wilderness." 

"But,  Bullen!  How  about  the  explosion  of  that 
bit  of  rock?"  inquired  several  voices  at  once. 

"  Simplicity  itself.  It  was  replaced  in  my  hand, 
as  I  pic]^ed  it  up,  by  a  ball  of  clay,  previouslj'^  pre- 
par'^d  for  the  occasion.  It  contained  a  pinch  of  ful- 
minate and  a  few  bits  of  gravel." 

"Well,  paymaster,  I  must  confess  that  your  in- 
genuity is  most  creditable!  "  commented  Major  Wil- 
kins.  "  I  foresee  that  we  must  hasten  your  depart- 
ure in  the  morning;  for  if  your  fame  as  Fire  King 
and  that  of  the  demon  caged  in  your  tub  should  pre- 
cede you  to  the  head  of  the  river,  I  should  never  be 
able  to  secure  a  crew  to  take  you  to  Detroit.  There- 
fore, gentlemen,  in  anticipation  of  early  rising,  I 
give  you  a  farewell  toast:  Our  guest  the  Fire  King; 
may  he  long  continue  a  bright  and  shining  ornament 
to  His  Majesty's  service." 

This  toast  was  di'unk  with  a  hearty  cheer ;  tiie  little 
paymaster  bowed  his  acknowledgments,  and  with 
much  laughter  the  merry  party  broke  up  for  the  night. 


CHAPTER  XV 

DONALD  AND  CHRISTIE  CEMENT   A  FRIENDSHIP 

The  ready  wit  and  fertility  of  resource,  shown  by 
Paymaster  BuUen  on  the  speedy  journey  he  had 
just  accomplished,  gave  Donald  such  a  different 
impression  of  the  man,  from  that  conceived  at  their 
first  meeting,  that  he  was  now  quite  willing  to 
accept  him  as  a  travelling  companion.  This  he  was 
the  more  ready  to  do,  as  from  the  upper  end  of  the 
Niagara  river  he  must  part  company  with  Christie, 
whose  course  would  be  along  the  south  shore  of  the 
lake,  while,  to  follow  Cuyler's  expedition,  Donald 
and  the  paymaster  must  skirt  the  northern  shore. 
Consequently  it  was  arranged  that  while  Christie 
should  continue  his  journey  in  a  bateau  that  was 
about  to  carry  several  recruits  to  Presque  Isle,  the 
others,  including  "Tummas,"  should  be  provided 
with  a  large  canoe  and  a  crew  of  four  Seneca  Indians. 
Donald's  belief  that  the  Senecas  were  about  to  go 
on  the  war-path,  if  indeed  they  had  not  already 
done  so,  was  not  shared  by  Major  Wilkins,  who 
declared  it  could  not  possibly  be,  as  he  was  in  con- 
stant communication  with  prominent  members  of 
that  tribe,  and  had  discovered  no  indication  of  ill- 


■f 


!1 


ii 

1 

111!  ': 


-it 


n 


i .  fj 


'■  f 


■  r 


i 


104 


AT  WAR    WITH   I'ONTIAC 


; 


feeling  toward  the  whites.  The  major  also  ridiculed 
the  idea  that  any  of  the  western  Indians  would  dare 
wage  war  against  the  English,  now  that  they  could 
no  longer  hope  for  French  assistance. 

"  Much  as  I  respect  your  father's  judgment  in  such 
matters,  my  dear  boy,"  he  said  to  Donald,  as  they 
parted  early  on  the  following  morning,  "  I  am  cer- 
tain that  in  the  present  case  he  must  be  mistaken.  If 
fear  of  an  Indian  outbreak  is  all  that  keeps  him  at 
Detroit,  tell  him  from  me  that  he  may  return  east  at 
once,  bringing  his  pretty  daughter,  your  charming 
sister,  with  him.  Tell  him,  too,  that  we  shall  expect 
him  to  make  a  long  visit  at  Fort  Niagara  en  route. 
We  are  all  longing  for  a  further  acquaintance  with 
Miss  Edith ;  for  though  I  did  succeed  in  detaining 
Cuyler  two  whole  days  solely  on  her  account,  her 
stay  with  us  was  far  too  short.  Pray  present  my 
comi>liuients  to  Madam  Rothsay  also,  and  tell  her 
that  we  live  only  in  the  hope  of  her  return. 

"  Yes;  I  mean  it  all,  and  a  great  deal  more  tx)0," 
laughed  the  gallant  major ;  "  so  speed  your  journey, 
that  we  may  not  die  of  despair.  Good-bye  and  good 
luck  to  you,  lad.  Good-bye,  Christie.  Run  over  and 
call  on  us  as  often  as  yoor  duties  will  permit.  I  fear 
you  will  find  life  at  Prasque  Isle  a  deadly  monotony. 
Farewell,  paymaster.  It  is  delightful  to  see  the 
Ling's  livery  borne  into  the  wilderness  with  such 
grace  and  dignity.  I  predict  that  you  will  make  an 
impression  at  Detroit,  upon  whites  as  well  as  reds. 


I 


■)! 


DONALD  AND  CHRISTIE  CICMENT  A  FRIENDSHIP    105 

and  I  will  guarantee  peace  \/ith  the  latter  so  long  as 
you  and  your  wonderful  tub  remain  in  the  country. 
Bon  voyage^  gentlemen  !     Shove  off !  " 

This  last  order  was  given  to  the  crew  of  a  light 
whale-boat,  in  which  our  travellers  were  already 
seated,  and  which  was  to  convey  them  a  few  miles 
up  the  river  to  the  lower  end  of  the  portage,  where 
the  town  of  Lewiston  now  stands.  At  that  time  it 
was  the  site  of  a  fortified  camp  maintained  for  the 
protection  of  the  men,  pack-horses,  and  ox-teams  em- 
ployed in  transporting  freight  over  the  rugged  road 
between  there  and  Fort  Schlosser,  a  small  post  e't  .i- 
ated  at  the  beginning  of  navigable  waters  above  the 
falls. 

Here  the  luggage  of  our  party,  including  Bullen's 
tub,  Avas  transferred  to  an  ox-wagon  that  was  es- 
corted by  the  paymaster  on  horseback,  as  he  refused 
to  lose  sight  of  his  belongings  even  for  a  short  time. 
Scorning  the  horses  proffered  for  their  use,  and  de- 
lighting in  the  opportunity  for  stretching  their  legs, 
the  two  younger  officers  set  briskly  forth  on  foot,  and 
were  soon  far  in  advance  of  the  slow-moving  wagon. 

"  I  would  that  our  journeyings  beyond  this  point 
lay  in  the  same  direction,  Hester,"  remarked  Ensign 
Christie,  when  they  found  themselves  alone.  "  Al- 
though we  have  not  known  each  other  long,  I  feel 
as  though  we  were  old  friends,  for  I  have  rarely  met 
a  fellow  to  whom  I  have  taken  so  great  a  liking  in 
so  short  a  time." 


\ 


lit 


m 


11:1 


106 


AT  WAR   WITH  I'ONTIAC 


I 


**  Thank  you,  old  man.  For  my  part,  I  heartily 
reciprocate  the  feeling,"  replied  Donald,  "and  I  wish 
with  all  my  heart  that  you  were  going  to  Detroit 
with  me.  Not  only  should  I  rejoice  in  your  com- 
pany, but  I  should  like  to  have  you  meet  my  father 
and  sister." 

"  I  have  already  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  Miss 
Hester,"  rejoined  Christie. 

*'  You  have  !  "  exclaimed  Donald ;  "  when  ?  where  ? 
why  didn't  you  tell  me  before  ?  " 

"  I  met  her  at  a  ball  given  by  General  Amherst, 
the  night  before  her  departure  from  New  York,  and 
had  the  honor  of  dancing  with  her.  That  I  have 
not  mentioned  the  fact  was  because  I  feared  to  recall 
to  you  an  unpleasant  memory  of  a  conversation  be- 
tween Bullen  and  myself,  regarding  her,  that  you 
must  have  overheard  at  Sir  William's,  that  time,  you 
know,  when  you  so  neatly  floored  my  Latin." 

"  What  an  asinine  thing  that  was,  on  my  part," 
laughed  Donald.  "I  only  overheard  a  few  bits  of 
your  conversation,  and  interrupted  it  in  that  stupid 
manner,  for  fear  lest  I  should  be  tempted  to  act  the 
eavesdropper.  But  tell  mc,  since  you  have  seen 
Edith  so  recently,  is  she  so  good  looking  as  they  say  ? 
I  have  not  seen  her  for  more  than  a  year,  you  know." 

"She  is  the  most  beautiful  creature  that  ever  I 
laid  eyes  on,  as  well  as  the  sweetest  and  most  charm- 
ing," replied  Christie,  with  such  warmth  that  Donald 
eyed  him  curiously. 


I 


t. 


f 

i 

e 

? 
I" 


DONALD  AND  CHRISTIE  CEMENT  A  FRIENDSHIP    107 

'It  was  the  unanimous  opinion  of  all  the  men 
who  saw  her  that  evening,"  continued  Christie,  flush- 
ing slightly  beneath  the  other's  searching  gaze.  /*  As 
for  poor  Bullen,  ho  was  so  completely  fascinated, 
that  he  had  neither  eyes  nor  speech  for  any  one  else, 
though  there  were  dozens  of  charming  girls  present. 
But,  I  say,  Hester!  Saw  you  ever  a  more  frightful 
place  than  this,  or  a  more  deadly  situation  for  an 
ambuscade  ?  " 

Their  road  had,  after  its  first  sharp  ascent  from  the 
river,  followed  the  verge  of  those  stupendous  cliffs 
which  rise  sheer  and  bare  on  the  eastern  side  of 
the  mighty  torrent  that  has  channelled  them.  The 
young  men  had  paused  many  times  to  gaze  on  the 
leaping  surges  and  awful  billows  that  raged  in  fury 
two  hundred  l;et  beneath  them,  or  to  listen,  awe- 
struck, to  the  ceaseless  thunder  of  falling  waters, 
with  which  earth  and  air  quivered.  Now,  within 
three  miles  of  the  cataract,  they  paused  again  on  the 
brink  of  a  lateral  rent  in  the  sheer  wall  of  rock,  so 
deep  and  black  as  to  have  won  for  itself  the  name 
of  Devil's  Hole.  The  road  winding  around  the  brink 
of  this  abyss  was  skirted  on  its  further  side  by  a 
steep  and  densely  wooded  slope.  It  was  indeed  a 
deadly  place  for  an  ambuscade,  as  several  bodies 
of  British  troops  subsequently  discovered  to  their 
sorrow,  and  the  young  soldiers  shuddered  as  they 
reflected  upon  its  possibilities. 

Suddenly,   as   they  stood    motionless   and   silent, 


m 


108 


AT   WAR   WITH  PONTIAC 


Christie  was  amazed  to  have  his  companion  spring 
from  his  side  as  though  he  had  been  shot,  dart 
across  the  road,  and  disappear  in  the  bushes  beyond. 
There  was  a  momentary  sound  of  crackling  sticks 
and  swishing  branches,  and  then  all  was  still.  Un- 
able to  account  for  this  mysterious  proceeding,  and 
not  knowing  what  action  to  take.  Ensign  Christie 
stood  motionless,  where  he  was  left,  for  some  minutes. 
Then  Donald  reappeared,  walking  down  the  road  as 
calmly  as  though  nothing  extraordinary  had  hap- 
pened, though  breathing  heavily  from  his  recent 
exertions. 

"  The  rascal  was  too  quick  for  me,"  he  said,  as  he 
rejoined  his  companion. 

"  What  rascal  ?  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  asked  the 
bewildered  ensign. 

.  "  I  don't  know ;  wish  I  did.  All  I  know  is  that 
it  was  an  Indian,  and  that  he  was  watching  us.  I 
noticed  his  tracks  some  distance  back,  and  also 
noticed  that  just  before  we  reached  this  point  they 
turned  abruptly  into  the  underbrush.  As  we  stood 
looking  down  that  hole,  I  heard  a  twig  snap,  and 
knew  he  was  close  at  hand.  I  thought  I  might  sur- 
prise him,  but,  as  I  said,  he  was  too  quick  for  me, 
and  I  only  caught  a  flying  glimpse  of  him  as  he 
disappeared." 

"  Well,  it  seems  curious,"  meditated  Christie,  "  but 
I  neither  noticed  any  footprints  nor  heard  a  sound, 
save  the  thunder  of  yonder  waters." 


DONALD  AND  CHRISTIE  CEMENT  A  FRIENDSHIP    100 


f 


"  It  doesn't  strike  me  so,"  replied  Donald ;  "  for  if 
I  had  not  been  born  and  brought  up  in  the  woods,  I 
should  not  be  apt  to  notice  such  things  either.  As 
it  is,  I  should  feel  very  much  ashamed  not  to  have 
noticed  them.  Now,  I  think  we  had  best  wait  here 
for  the  rest  of  the  party.  It  is  possible  there  may  be 
mischief  afoot.  I  wouldn't  say  anything  to  need- 
lessly alarm  the  paymaster,  though." 

"  All  right,"  agreed  Christie  ;  "  but  what  could  be 
the  chap's  object  in  spying  our  movements  ?  " 

"  It  is  hard  to  say  ;  but  I  am  satisfied  that  there  is 
a  general  Indian  war  much  nearer  at  hand  than  Major 
Wilkins  is  willing  to  admit,  and  in  that  case  we 
must  be  prepared  at  any  moment  for  all  sorts  of 
unexpected  happenings.  I  only  wish  I  was  by  my 
sister's  side  in  one  of  Cuyler's  boats,  and  could  give 
the  lieutenant  warning  of  what  to  expect." 

"So  do  I,"  assented  Christie  so  heartily  that  the 
other  looked  at  him  quizzically,  and  he  hastened  to 
add,  "  I  mean  so  do  I  wish  you  were  there,  though 
I  trust  you  may  be  mistaken  in  your  prophecy.  In 
case  there  is  any  trouble,  though,  I  hope  I  may  reach 
my  post  before  it  breaks  out." 

"  I  hope  you  may,  old  man,  with  all  my  heart. 
At  any  rate,  you  want  to  keep  both  eyes  and  ears 
wide  open  every  minute  between  here  and  there, 
and  after  you  get  there,  too.  Hello !  Here  comes 
Bullen!" 

"  By  Jove  !     What  a  beastly  place  !  "    cried  the 


n 


s 


'id!! 

i 


Ml 


ill 


I' 


'^M 


I 


r 
'1  MUl 


110 


AT   WAR    '.VITII   PONTIAC 


little  paymaster,  as  he  peered  into  the  dim  depths 
of  the  Devil's  Hole.  "  It  actually  makes  one  feel 
creepy,  don't  you  know.  Tummas,  you  rascal,  gad 
up  those  snails  of  bulls  and  let  us  move  on.'* 

An  hour  later,  as  they  came  abreast  of  the  stupen- 
dous cataract,  whose  mighty  voice  had  throbbed  in 
their  eai*s  all  that  morning,  the  younger  men  would 
gladly  have  lingered  to  gaze  on  its  grandeur ;  but  the 
paymaster  complained  that  the  volume  of  water  Wcis 
not  nearly  so  great  as  he  had  been  led  to  expect,  and 
refused  to  waste  any  time  in  gazing  on  it. 

"But  surely,  Bullen,  you  are  going  to  drown  the 
Fire  Demon,  and  we  want  to  see  the  last  of  the  tub," 
expostulated  Christie. 

"You'll  have  to  want  then,  and  want  till  you're 
gray,  and  longer,"  retorted  the  little  man.  "So  we 
mignt  as  well  move  on.  Tummas,  you  idiot,  gad 
up  those  bulls  I " 


* 


CHAPTER  XVI 


QUICKEYE   AND   THE   "ZEBRA" 


The  flotilla  under  command  of  Lieutenant  Cuy- 
ler  consisted  of  twenty  bateaux,  nineteen  of  which 
were  heavily  laden  with  recruits  and  supplies  of 
ammunition,  provisions,  and  goods  for  Fort  Detroit. 
The  other  boat,  which  generally  headed  the  fleet, 
was  of  lighter  and  more  graceful  construction  than 
the  others,  and  was  reserved  for  the  commander  of 
the  expedition.  In  it  also  travelled  the  two  ladies, 
who  were  thus  undertaking  an  adventurous  journey 
into  the  far  western  wilderness.  This  much  infor- 
mation concerning  his  sister's  present  surroundings 
Donald  Hester  gained  at  Fort  Schlosser,  from  which 
place  the  flotilla  had  departed  six  days  before  his 
own  arrival. 

Six  days!  It  was  a  long  lead  to  overcome,  and 
everything  he  dreaded  might  happen  in  that  time. 
Still,  he  did  not  anticipate  that  the  convoy  would 
run  into  danger  before  it  neared  Detroit,  which  place 
it  was  not  expected  to  reach  in  less  than  two  weeks. 
If,  therefore,  he  could  overtake  it  within  one  week, 
or  before  it  entered  the  Detroit  river,  all  might  yet 
be  well.     Having  reached  this  conclusion,  the  young 

111 


I" 

Ml 


, 


i 


'I 


.,? 


■ ,  if 


I 


i>  I 


il 


;  f 


112 


AT   WAR    WITH    I'ONTIAC 


officer  bustled  iil)()iit  with  such  energy,  that  he  had 
the  satisfaction  of  getting  liis  own  party  started  from 
Fort  Sclilosser  Lite  tliat  same  afternoon,  instead  of 
waiting  until  the  following  morning,  as  had  been 
at  first  planned. 

Once  under  way,  the  active  young  fellow  seized  a 
paddle,  and  so  aided  the  progress  of  the  big  canoe 
by  his  own  efforts  that  ere  darkness  set  in  the  river 
had  been  stemmed  to  its  source,  and  the  broad  ex- 
panse of  Lake  Erie  Lay  before  them,  still  glimmering 
in  the  western  glow.  Not  until  they  were  well  be- 
yond the  influence  of  the  strong  current  setting 
toward  the  river,  would  he  permit  a  landing  to  be 
made. 

Donald  had  been  perplexed  from  the  start  to  find 
that  there  were  five  Indians  in  the  canoe,  instead  of 
the  four  promised  by  Major  Wilkins.  He  was  also 
amazed  to  discover  that  none  of  them  could  speak 
Englisl/,  for  they  all  shook  their  heads  with  expres- 
sionless faces  when  he  addressea  cnem  in  that  tongue. 
By  using  signs  and  the  few  Iroquois  words  that  he 
could  remember,  he  managed  to  make  known  his 
wishes;  but,  although  these  were  obeyed,  he  imag- 
ined there  was  some  mystery  in  the  air,  and  became 
keenly  watchful  for  its  development. 

From  the  very  first  he  was  suspicious  of  the  fifth, 
or  extra  member,  of  the  crew,  who  occupied  the 
extreme  stern  of  the  canoe  and  acted  as  steersman. 
None  of  the  Indians  were  very  pleasant  to  look  upon ; 


,  ' 


QUICKEYE  AND  THE   "ZEBRA" 


113 


a 


but  the  face  of  this  individiuil  was  so  thickly  covered 
with  paint  of  many  colora  that  its  personality  was 
concealed,  as  though  by  a  mask.  This  paint  Ixjinjy 
laid  on  in  narrow  stripes,  Mr.  lUiUen  was  moved  to 
call  him  the  "Zebra,"  a  name  tliat  seemed  to  please 
the  fellow,  and  to  which  he  readily  answered. 

That  night  the  white  men  slei)t  beneath  the  canoe, 
which  was  turned  half  over,  with  its  upper  gunwale 
resting  on  a  couple  of  short,  but  stout,  forked  sticks; 
and,  acting  upon  Donald's  insistent  advice,  they 
kept  watch  by  turn,  two  hours  at  a  time,  during  the 
night.  Even  "  Tummas  "  was  so  thoroughly  im- 
pressed with  a  sense  of  responsibility,  that  liis  two 
hours  of  watchfulness  were  passed  in  a  nervous 
tremble  and  with  hardly  a  blink  of  his  wide-open 
eyes.  Donald  stood  the  last  watch,  and  at  its  con- 
clusion he  woke  the  Indians  and  ordered  them  to 
prepare  breakfast. 

Day  was  just  breaking,  and  while  two  of  the 
Indians  attended  to  the  fire  the  other  three  scattered 
through  the  woods  in  hopes  of  picking  up  some  un- 
wary bit  of  game.  While  they  were  thus  engaged, 
Donald  took  a  long  refreshing  swim  in  the  cool 
waters  of  the  lake.  He  did  not  arouse  the  pay- 
master until  the  hunters  had  returned,  bringing  a 
wild  turkey  and  a  few  brace  of  pigeons,  by  which 
time  breakfast  was  ready.  Then,  to  his  dismay,  the 
little  man  insisted  on  having  a  bath  in  his  tub,  which 
proved  a  very  tedious  operation,  on  being  shaved,  and 


'411 


r! 

Ml; 


\l- 


iV 


1 


I1..I 


m 


^ii 


o.i 


114 


AT  WAR  WITH  TONTIAC 


on  performing  so  elaborate  a  toilet,  that  the  sun  was 
more  than  an  hour  high,  and  Donald  was  fuming 
with  impatience,  before  they  wero  ready  to  start. 

All  this  time  the  Indians,  who  had  swallowed 
their  breakfast  in  silence,  as  well  as  with  despatch, 
smoked  their  pipes  and  gazed  with  delighted  wonder 
at  the  novel  operations  of  "  Tummas  "  and  his  mas- 
ter. As  the  several  compartments  of  the  tub  vielded 
up  their  mysterious  contents,  the  dusky  spectators 
gave  vent  to  ejaculations  of  amazement,  and  several 
times  he  of  the  striped  face  stepped  forward  for  a 
closer  inspection  of  the  marvellous  receptacle. 

"I  say,  Bullen,  this  sort  of  thing  will  never  do!" 
began  Donald,  when  the  paymaster  was  at  length 
resplendent  in  his  completed  toilet,  and  they  were 
once  more  under  way.  "  We  ought  to  have  been  off 
three  hours  ago.  If  we  continue  to  waste  time  at 
this  rate,  there  is  no  possible  chance  of  overtaking 
Cuyler,.and  you  know  as  well  as  I  what  that  may 
mean  to  me." 

"  Yes,  my  dear  fellow,  I  understand ;  but  how  can 
I  help  it?  You  can't,  of  course,  expect  a  gentleman 
to  go  without  his  daily  tub,  and  I  assure  you  that  in 
my  desire  to  expedite  our  journey  I  haven't  occupied 
more  than  half  my  usual  time  this  morning." 

Donald  groaned.  Then,  with  a  happy  thought,  he 
inquired:  "How  would  it  do  to  take  your  bath  in 
the  evening,  as  soon  as  we  make  a  landing,  and 
while  supper  is  being  prepared?'* 


QUICKEYE   AND  THE   '♦ZEBRA" 


116 


"It  would  ba  entirely  contrary  to  custom,"  replied 
the  other.  "  Still,  it  might  be  done  for  a  short  time, 
and  for  the  sake  of  being  accommodating  I  am  will- 
ing to  try  it.  I  don't  think  you  need  fear,  though, 
that  we  shall  not  pursue  this  journey  with  even 
more  than  ordinary  speed,  for  I  mean  to  appear  before 
these  rascals  in  my  r61e  of  Fire  King  this  very 
evening,  and  thereafter  I  fancy  they  will  be  only 
too  anxious  to  push  ahead,  in  order  to  be  rid  of  me 
as  quickly  as  possible." 

"All  right,"  replied  Donald,  "and  I  wish  you 
success  in  it."  Then  he  bent  with  redoubled  energy 
over  his  paddle.  In  spite  of  his  efforts,  he  was  not 
satisfied  with  the  progress  made  by  the  canoe.  She 
appeared  to  drag.  It  did  not  seem  as  though  the 
Indians  were  doing  good  work,  and  he  spoke  sharply 
to  them  several  times  in  the  course  of  the  morning. 
He  had  a  suspicion  that  the  steersman  often  turned 
the  flat  of  his  paddle  against  the  course  of  the  canoe ; 
but,  as  his  back  was  turned,  he  could  not  be  certain 
of  this.  What  he  did  know  for  a  surety  was  that, 
as  they  ran  in  toward  the  beach  for  a  short  midday 
halt,  the  Zebra,  with  unpardonable  carelessness, 
allowed  the  frail  craft  to  run  against  a  sharp  rock 
that  cut  a  jagged  gash  in  her  birchen  side.  The 
next  moment  ^he  was  on  the  beach,  so  that  no  one 
got  even  a  wetting ;  but  a  long  delay  ensued  while 
a  patch  of  bark  was  stitched  over  the  rent  and  payed 
with  pitch. 


J.I 


I'M 
('I 


u 


ii, 


110 


AT   WAR   WITH  PONTIAC 


i    ' 


When  at  length  all  was  again  in  readiness  for  a 
start,  Donald  calmly  assumed  the  position  of  steers- 
man in  the  stern,  at  the  same  time  motioning  the 
Zebra  to  take  his  place  among  the  paddlers.  The 
man  hesitated  a  moment,  seemed  about  to  refuse, 
and  then,  with  a  second  glance  at  the  young  officer's 
determined  face,  slowly  obeyed  the  order.  During 
the  remainder  of  that  afternoon  the  Indians  labored 
at  their  paddles  in  silence,  and  with  scowling  brows. 
It  was  evident  to  Donald  that  a  crisis  of  some  kind 
was  at  hand.  Even  the  paymaster  noticed  that 
an  uncomfortable  feeling  prevailed  in  the  boat,  but 
he  had  implicit  faith  that  his  performance  of  that 
evening  would  set  everything  to  rights. 

"  These  fellows  will  be  my  abject  slavec  before  I 
am  done  with  them,"  he  remarked  cheerfully,  and 
relying  on  their  ignorance  of  English  he  explained 
fully  what  he  proposed  to  do.  Not  only  would  he 
repeat  the  tricks  that  had  already  proved  so  success- 
ful, but  he  planned  to  complete  the  subjugation  of 
these  particular  savages  by  causing  certain  green 
and  blue  flames  to  dance  above  their  camp-fire.  The 
whole  was  to  conclude  with  a  slight  explpsion,  that 
should  leave  the  scene  in  darkness,  save  for  a  weird 
phosphorescent  light  emanating  from  a  face  that 
would  appear  suspended  in  mid-air.  This  last  effort, 
as  the  paymaster  explained  to  Donald,  he  would  pro- 
duce by  painting  the  face  on  a  bit  of  bark  that  should 
be  attached  to  a  fish-line.     One  end  of  this  should 


i. 


QUICKEYE   AND  THE   "ZEBRA" 


117 


be   tossed   over   the   limb  of  a  tree,  and  the  affair 
should  be  jerked  into  position  at  the  proper  moment. 

The  projector  of  this  entertainment  was  enthusi- 
astic and  confident.  "Tummas,"  who  was  an  inter- 
ested listener  to  all  that  was  said,  chuckled  audibly, 
as  he  reflected  upon  the  dismay  of  the  savages,  and 
even  Donald  looked  forward  to  the  experiment  with 
interest. 

Alas !  that  such  well-laid  plans  should  be  doomed 
to  failure ;  but  such  was  the  lamentable  fact.  When, 
soon  after  landing,  the  paymaster  called  for  boiling 
water,  the  Indians  watched  him  swallow  his  effer- 
vescing mixture  with  unmoved  faces.  When  he 
hurled  a  ball  of  clay,  charged  with  fulminating 
powder,  at  a  tree,  missed  his  mark,  and  caused  the 
missile  to  fall  harmlessly  in  the  water,  they  gazed  at 
him  pityingly.  When,  an  hour  later,  he  strolled 
over  to  their  camp-fire  and  carelessly  tossed  what 
appeared  to  be  a  stone  into  it,  they  drew  back  a  few 
paces,  watched  the  play  of  colored  flames  that  fol- 
lowed, with  interest,  and  were  not  at  all  disturbed 
by  the  small  explosion  that  took  place  a  minute 
afterwards.  To  crown  all,  when  their  attention  was 
attracted  to  a  flaming  face  swinging  in  the  darkness 
above  their  heads,  the  Zebra  deliberately  raised  his 
gun  and  blew  the  bit  of  bark  to  atoms,  with  the 
point-blank  discharge  of  a  load  of  buckshot.  Then 
the  Indians  calmly  resumed  their  positions  and  their 
pipes,  while  the   crestfallen  author  of  this  signal 


;M| 


MM 


i 


i 


118 


AT   WAR   WITH  PONTIAC 


[ij. 


■>'>■ 


failure,  unable  to  find  words  to  express  his  feelings, 
sullenly  retired  to  the  canoe  and  rolled  himself  in  a 
blanket. 

The  next  morning,  as  Donald  emerged  from  his 
plunge  in  the  lake,  he  detected  one  of  the  Indians 
crouching  beside  the  canoe,  and  evidently  tampering 
with  its  bark  covf  ring.  Naked  as  he  was,  the  young 
fellow  bounded  to  the  spot  and,  ere  the  Indian  was 
aware  of  his  presence,  knocked  him  sprawling  with 
a  single  blow.  Like  a  pinther  the  savage  sprang  to 
his  feet,  and,  knife  in  hand,  rushed  at  his  assailant. 
Suddenly  he  paused,  his  outstretched  arm  fell  to  his 
side,  and  he  stood  like  one  petrified,  with  his  eyes 
fixed  on  Donald.  Then,  in  excellent  English,  he 
said  slowly :  — 

"  Why  did  not  Quickeye  tell  his  red  brother  that 
he  was  of  the  Totem  of  the  Bear  and  of  the  magic 
circle  of  the  Metai  ?  " 

As  he  spoke,  the  Indian  pointed  to  the  rude  device 
that,  tattooed  in  blue  lines,  had  ornamented  Donald 
Hester's  left  arm,  just  below  the  shoulder,  ever  since 
he  was  an  infant. 

Instead  of  answering  this  question,  the  young 
man  replied  scornfully:  — 

"So  you  can  speak  English,  can  you,  you  red 
scoundrel  ?  And  you  call  me  '  Quickeye  '  because  1 
caught  you  peering  from  the  bushes  at  the  Devil's 
Hole,  do  you  ?  Yes,  I  am  quick-ej^ed  enough  to  read 
every  thought  in  your  black  heart.     Do  I  not  know 


QUICKEYE   AND  THE   "ZEBRA 


M 


119 


that  you  came  in  the  canoe  with  the  white  medicine 
man  from  Oswego  ?  Do  I  not  know  that  you  listened 
outside  the  open  window  of  the  mess-room  at  Fort 
Niagara,  while  the  white  chiefs  talked  at  night? 
Do  I  not  know  that  you  painted  your  face,  with  the 
tliought  that  the  white  man  was  a  fool  and  would  no 
longer  recognize  you  ?  Then  you  came  in  this  canoe 
that  you  might  make  it  go  slow,  like  a  swan  whose 
wing  ib  broken  by  the  hunter.  Do  not  I  know  all 
this  as  well  as  all  the  things  3  ou  have  done,  and 
thought  of  doing?  You  are  a,  fool!  The  Metai 
know  everything.  Bah !  If  I  had  not  use  for  you, 
I  would  strike  you  dead.  But  I  need  your  strength, 
and  so  long  as  you  serve  me  truly  you  shall  live. 
Go,  and  be  ready  to  start  ere  the  sun  rises  from 
yonder  water." 

With  this  the  young  man  turned  on  his  heel, 
while  the  humbled  savage  slunk  away,  cringing  as 
though  he  had  felt  the  lashing  of  whips.  From  that 
moment  there  was  no  further  trouble,  and  the  canoe 
of  the  white  men  was  sped  on  its  journey  at  a  pace 
to  satisfy  even  their  impatience. 


i 


'  t| 


\    I 
I 


m 


ij 


il 


.  y 


! 


:i 


CHAPTER   XVII 


A   BRAVE    GIRL  CAPTIVE 


For  two  weeks  after  leaving  the  Niagara  river 
Cuyler's  boat  brigade  made  its  way  slowly  but 
steadily  westward,  along  the  northern,  forest-covered 
shore  of  Lake  Erie.  Except  for  an  occasional  day 
of  rain,  when  the  expedition  remained  comfortably 
in  camp,  the  weather  was  perfect,  and  nothing  oc- 
curred to  disturb  the  peace  or  enjoyment  of  the  long 
voyage.  Its  only  drawback  ]ay  in  the  monotony  of 
water  and  forest,  unrelieved  by  a  sign  of  human 
presence,  that  constantly  surrounded  them. 

As  one  of  the  last  days  of  May  drew  toward  its 
perfect  close,  two  of  the  occupants  of  the  leading 
boat  reclined  beneath  a  small  awning  and  watched 
in  silence  the  western  splendor  of  the  waning  day, 
—  that  wonderful  spectacle  which  is  never  twice  the 
same  and  whose  incomparable  glories  never  grow 
stale  by  repetition.  The  elder  of  the  two  was 
Madam  Rothsay,  whose  placid  face  indexed  the 
kindly  nature  that  could  not  refuse  the  pleadings  of 
a  loved  one,  even  when  they  were  for  the  undertak- 
ing of  so  wild  an  expedition  as  the  present. 

"Is  it  not  exquisite,  aunty?"    finally  exclaimed 

120 


A  BRAVE  GIRL  CAPl'IVE 


121 


the  younger  of  the  two,  a  girl  of  eighteen,  whose 
blue  eyes  and  fair  hair  were  strikingly  contrasted 
with  the  warm  tintings  of  a  face  on  which  sun  and 
wind  had  plied  their  magic  arts  for  many  days. 

"Yes,  dear,  it  is  indeed  exquisite,  and  so  won- 
derfully peaceful,"  replied  Madam  Rothsay. 

"That  is  the  one  thing  I  object  to,"  laughed  the 
girl.  "It  is  all  so  stupidly  peaceful  that  I  am 
getting  tired  of  it,  and  long  for  a  bit  of  excitement. " 

"  But  my  dear  Edith,  if  Sir  Jeffry  had  not  assured 
me  that  every  portion  of  this  journey  might  be  made 
thiough  a  country  that  was  perfectly  peaceful,  I 
should  have  never  consented  to  undertake  it.  Be- 
sides, I  thought  you  were  quite  tired  of  the  excite- 
ments and  gayety  of  New  York.  You  certainly 
said  so." 

"Yes,  so  I  was.  That  is,  I  was  so  tired  of  the 
stupid  men  one  had  so  constantly  to  meet  that  I 
longed  to  get  away  to  some  place  where  they  would 
not  dare  follow." 

"I  agree  with  you,  my  dear,  that  most  of  them 
were  very  stupid.  There  was  Ensign  Christie,  for 
instance,  who  —  " 

"Nc.7,  aunty!  you  know  I  didn't  mean  him,  or 
the  men  like  him,  who  had  done  splendid  things, 
and  were  just  aching  for  a  chance  to  do  more.  Be- 
sides, I  am  sure  that  if  Mr.  Christie  had  been  pos- 
sessed of  the  slightest  desire  to  follow  us,  we  could 
not  have  found  any  place  in  all  the  world  where  he 


iiitM 


.'  J  III 

I 


i 


if 


i 


fl 


;  1 . 


i-'j 


m 


ill 


I 


122 


AT   WAR    WITH   PONTIAC 


! 
1 


i 


would  not  dare  venture.  I  meant  such  creatures  as 
that  absurd  little  paymaster,  who  talked  about  a 
stu[)id  tul)  he  had  invented,  until  I  couldn't  help 
asking  him  why  he  didn't  follow  the  example  of  the 
three  wise  men  of  Gotham  and  sail  away  in  it." 

"What  did  he  answer?" 

"  Said  he  believed  his  old  tub  was  quite  seaworthy, 
and  that  he  should  be  perfectly  willing  to  undertake 
a  voyage  in  it,  provided  it  would  lead  him  to  me. 
Oh,  he  was  so  silly,  and  so  pompous,  and  so  con- 
ceited, and  so  spick  and  span !  He  is  the  most  im- 
maculate creature  you  ever  saw,  and  was  great  fun 
for  a  while.  Then  he  got  to  be  such  a  desperate  bore 
that  I  simply  couldn't  endure  him  any  longer;  and 
so,  here  we  are." 

"But  I  thought  your  sole  reason  for  wanting  to 
come  out  here  was  to  see  your  father  and  Donald, 
and  give  them  a  joyful  surprise." 

"Oi  course,  you  dear  goosey,  that  was  the  most 
chiefest  of  my  reasons,  as  Willy  Shakespeare  would 
say,  and  I  do  so  long  to  see  them  that  it  seems  as 
though  I  couldn't  wait  until  to-morrow  evening. 
You  said  we  would  be  there  by  this  time  to-morrow, 
you  remember,  Mr.  Cuyler,  and  a  promise  is  a  prom- 
ise, you  know." 

"I  did  say  so.  Miss  Edith,  and  I  think  I  may 
safely  repeat  my  promise,  provided  we  make  camp  a 
little  later  than  usual  this  evening,  and  get  started 
again   by   daylight  to-morrow  morning,"  answered 


A    RRAVE   GIRL  CAmVE 


123 


|ay 

a 
led 
ed 


the  middle-aged  lieutenant,  who  sat  just  back  of  the 
ladies  and  steered  the  '  .at.  "  Yon  far-reaching 
land,"  he  continued,  "is  Point  Pelee,  and  from  there 
the  fort  is  only  about  twenty-five  miles  away." 

"Then  to-night's  camp  is  to  be  our  last,"  reflected 
Edith,  soberly.  '^  Well,  I  must  confess  that  for  some 
reasons  I  am  sorry.  I  have  so  enjoyed  the  glorious 
camp-fires,  and  the  singing,  and  the  stories,  and  the 
stars,  and  the  ripple  of  the  water  on  the  beach,  and 
the  sweet-scented  balsam  beds,  and  everything; 
haven't  you,  aunty?'* 

"  Yes,  dear.  I  suppose  I  have,"  replied  Madam 
Rothsay.  "  But  I  am  not  sure  that  I  shall  not  enjoy 
quite  as  much  a  substantial  roof  over  my  head,  sit- 
ting at  a  regularly  appointed  table,  and  sleeping 
between  sheets  once  more ;  for  I  take  it  such  things 
are  to  be  had,  even  in  Detroit,  are  they  not,  Mr. 
Cuyler?" 

"Yes,  indeed,  madam,"  replied  the  lieutenant. 
"You  will  find  there  all  the  necessities,  as  well  as 
many  of  the  luxuries  of  civilization ;  for  Detroit  is 
quite  a  metropolis,  I  assure  you." 

"Just  fancy!"  exclaimed  Edith,  "a  metropolis 
buried  a  month  deep  in  the  wilderness.  And  I  sup- 
pose the  officers  get  up  dances  and  receptions  and 
excursions  and  boating  parties,  or  something  of  that 
kind,  very  often  ?  " 

"  All  the  time ;  and  if  they  are  not  enjoying  some 
of  those  things  at  this  very  minute,  it  is  only  be- 


124 


AT  WAR   WITFI   Pr)NTTAC 


cause  they  await  your  coming  to  crown  their  festivi- 
ties with  completeness." 

"Nonsense!     They  don't  know  we  are  coming." 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  but  Major  Gladwyn  was 
notified  some  months  ago  that  he  might  expect  the 
arrivul  cf  this  expedition  some  time  about  the  first 
of  June." 

"The  expedition,  yes;  but  us,  no.  We  are  to 
appear  as  a  delightful  surprise,  you  know.  Oh  dear  I 
what  fun  it  will  be!  By  the  way,  Mr.  Cuyler,  are 
there  many  pretty  girls  in  this  forest  metropolis  ?  " 

"I  believe  some  of  the  native  young  ladies,  both 
French  and  Indian,  are  considered  quite  attractive," 
replied  the  lieutenant,  evasively. 

"  Oh,  squaws  I  But  they  don't  count,  you  know. 
I  mean  English  or  American  girls." 

Do  you  make  a  distinction  between  the  two?" 
Certainly.    Aunty,  here,  is  English,  and  I  am 
American.     Don't  you  notice  a  difference  between 
us?"  answered  Miss  Audacity,  saucily. 

"  I  can  only  note  that  each  is  more  charming  in 
her  own  way  than  the  other,"  replied  the  lieutenant, 
gallantly. 

Conversation  was  interrupted  at  this  moment  by 
the  appearance  of  a  beach  suitable  for  a  landing,  and 
the  heading  of  the  boat  toward  it.  A  minute  later 
it  was  run  ashore,  and  the  ladies  v/ere  helped  care- 
fully out,  while  the  remaining  bateaux  were  beached 
on  either  side  in  quick  succession. 


(( 


(( 


A  BBAVE   OIRL   CAPTIVE 


126 


A  scene  of  orderly  confusion  immediately  fol- 
lowed, as  camp  equipage  of  every  description  was 
taken  from  the  boats  and  carried  to  the  place  where 
axemen  were  already  at  work  clearing  away  under- 
brush or  cutting  wood  for  the  fires.  Every  one  was 
in  the  highest  of  spirits,  and  the  gloomy  forest  rang 
with  shouts  and  laughter;  for  was  not  this  the  last 
camp?  and  would  not  the  morrow  witness  the  com- 
pletion of  their  arduous  journey  ? 

While  their  own  little  tent  was  being  erected,  the 
ladies,  according  to  their  custom,  sought  relief  from 
the  cramped  positions  and  long  confinement  of  the 
boat  in  a  brisk  walk  up  the  beach.  The  darkening 
shadows  warned  them  not  to  go  as  far  as  usual,  and 
at  the  end  of  a  few  hundred  yards  they  turned  to 
retrace  their  steps. 

Suddenly,  without  the  warning  of  a  sound  to  indi- 
cate a  human  presence,  they  were  surrounded  by  half 
a  dozen  dusky  forms,  that  seemed  to  spring  from  the 
very  earth,  their  half-uttered  cries  were  smothered 
by  rude  hands  clapped  over  their  mouths,  and  before 
they  realized  wuat  had  happened  they  were  being 
hurried  at  a  breathless  pace  through  the  blackness 
of  the  forest. 

They  were  not  taken  far,  but  on  the  edge  of  a 
small  glade,  or  natural  opening,  were  allowed  to 
sink  at  the  foot  of  two  trees,  standing  a  yard  or  so 
apart.  To  these  they  were  securely  bound,  and  then, 
as  mysteriously  as  they  had  appeared,  their  captors 


! ; '! 


126 


AT   WAR    WITH  TONTIAC 


i  I'r 


left  them.  So  far  as  tlie  terrified  women  could  judge 
from  the  evidence  of  their  senses,  the  forest  was 
unpeopled  save  hy  themselves,  though  from  the  lake 
shore  they  could  still  hear  the  cheerful  shouts  of 
those  engaged  in  preparing  Cuyler's  camp. 

"  Oh,  my  dear  child  I  my  poor  dear  child  I  "  moaned 
the  elder  woman ;  "  what  does  it  all  mean  ?  Oh,  it 
is  too  terrible  I     Too  awful  I  '* 

"Hush,  aunty,"  answered  the  girl.  "We  are  in 
the  hands  of  the  savages,  and  God  alone  knows  what 
our  fate  is  to  be.  At  any  rate,  we  must  keep  clear- 
headed, and  not  give  way  to  our  feelings.  I  am 
thinking  of  those  poor,  unsuspecting  men.  If  we 
could  only  warn  them,  they  might  be  able  to  defend 
themselves,  and  possibly  help  us  afterwards.  Don't 
you  think  if  we  should  both  scream  together  that 
they  would  hear  us  ?  " 

"Edith,  child!  are  you  crazy?  We  should  be 
instantly  killed.  Not  a  sound,  as  you  value  your 
life  I" 

"  I  must,  aunty.  I  should  be  ashamed  to  live  if  I 
failed  to  do  the  one  thing  of  which  I  am  capable." 

With  this  the  brave  girl  lifted  her  voice  in  a  shrill 
cry  for  help,  that  echoed  far  and  wide  through  the 
dim  aisles  of  the  forest ;  but  it  was  too  late,  for  at 
the  same  moment  there  came  a  crashing  volley, 
mingled  with  savage  yells,  that  announced  an 
attack  on  the  devoted  camp. 


CHAPTER  xviri 


ri 


SURPRISE  AND   DESTRUCTION  OF  THE  BOAT   BRIGADE 


For  many  days  had  the  scouts  of  Pontiac  watclied 
from  the  thore  the  boat  brigade  as  it  made  its  slow 
way  toward  Detroit.  Niglit  after  night  had  they 
hovered  about  its  camps,  peering  with  greedy  eyes 
from  darkest  shadows  at  the  coveted  wealth  which 
the  rddcoats,  ignorant  of  the  presence  of  danger,  so 
carelessly  guarded.  It  was  well  to  let  the  white 
men  have  the  toil  of  bringing  it  as  near  the  Indian 
villages  as  possible,  and  so  an  attack  was  not  ordered 
until  the  very  last  night.  Then  the  two  hundred 
Wyandot  warriors,  detailed  for  the  purpose,  watched 
the  boats  until  a  landing  was  effected,  silently  sur- 
rounded the  camp  while  everything  was  in  confusion, 
and  at  a  signal  poured  in  their  deadly  fire. 

To  Cuyler's  men  this  volley  was  as  a  thunderbolt 
from  a  clear  sky.  Never  was  a  surprise  more  com- 
plete ;  never  was  overwhelming  disaster  more  sudden. 
They  were  paralyzed  and  unnerved.  A  score  fell  at 
the  first  fire,  and  though  Cuyler  succeeded  in  forming 
the  rest  in  an  irregular  semicircle  about  the  boats, 
their  return  shots  were  so  wildly  scattering  and 
ineffective    that    the    enemy   were   emboldened    to 

127 


'li 


n 

t 

I  ill 


Hi 


f  ( ' 


i  .  . 


-I 


El 


s 


I      i 

i 


128 


AT  WAR  WITH  PONTIAC 


abandon  their  usual  tactics,  break  from  cover  in  a 
body,  and  rush  fiercely  upon  the  wavering  line  of 
panic-stricken  soldiers.  Most  of  these  now  sav/ 
Indians  for  the  first  time.  None  waited  for  a  second 
glance,  but  flinging  away  their  muskets,  all  ran 
madly  for  the  boats. 

Of  these  they  succeeded  in  launching  five,  which 
were  instantly  filled  beyond  their  capacity.  So  ill- 
directed  were  their  efforts  to  escape,  that  the  Indians, 
by  setting  two  more  boats  afloat  and  starting  in 
pursuit,  ep?-xly  overtook  three  of  the  fugitive  craft, 
which  surrendered  to  them  without  resistance.  The 
remaining  two,  by  hoisting  sail  and  taking  advantage 
of  an  off-shore  breeze,  made  good  their  escape  and 
were  headed  in  the  direction  of  Sandusky  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  lake.  In  one  of  these  was  the 
commander  of  the  ill-fated  expedition,  who  had  been 
the  last  man  to  leave  the  beach. 

Wild  with  joy  over  a  victory  so  easily  gained  and 
so  rich  in  results,  the  Indians,  after  securing  their 
prisoners,  lighted  great  fi^'es,  and,  gathered  about 
these,  abandoned  themselves  to  feasting  and  drinking. 
Among  the  captured  supplies  was  a  quantity  of  liquor, 
upon  which  they  pounced  with  avidity.  Heads  of 
kegs  were  broken  in,  and  the  fiery  stuff  was  recklessly 
quaffed  from  cups,  vt^ssels  of  birch  bark,  or  anything 
that  would  hold  it ;  some  even  scooping  it  up  in  their 
hands,  until  all  became  filled  with  the  madness  of 
demons.     They  danced,  yelled,   waved  aloft  their 


SURPRISE  AND  DESTRUCTION  OF  BOAT  BRIGADE    129 

bloody  scalps,  and  fought  like  wild  beasts,  while  the 
trembling  captives,  crouching  in  scattered  groups, 
seemed  to  hear  their  own  death  knell  in  every  whoop. 

One  such  scene  of  hideous  revelry  was  enacted  in 
the  little  glade  beside  which  Madam  Rothsay  and 
Edith  Hester  had  been  left  helplessly  bound  by  their 
captors.  From  the  moment  of  the  girl's  brave  effort 
to  warn  the  camp,  these  two  had  listened  with  strain- 
ing ears  to  the  babel  of  sounds  by  which  the  whole 
course  of  the  tragedy  was  made  plain  to  them.  They 
shuddered  at  the  volleys,  at  the  screams  of  the 
wounded,  and  at  the  triumpaant  yells  of  the  victors. 
They  almost  forgot  their  own  wretched  position  in 
their  horror  at  the  fate  of  their  recent  companions. 
But  when  all  was  over,  and  the  hideous  revelry  of  the 
savages  was  begun  within  their  sight,  a  realization  of 
their  own  misery  returned  with  overwhelming  force, 
and  they  again  trembled  at  the  possibilities  of  their 
fate.  A  number  of  squaws  had  accompanied  this  war 
party,  and  they  could  see  these  busily  engaged  secur- 
ing and  concealing  what  weapons  they  could  find  at 
the  very  beginning  of  the  debauch. 

"  Even  those  creatures  realize  the  dreadful  things 
that  are  likely  to  happen,  and  are  taking  what  pre- 
cautions they  may  to  guard  against  them,"  moaned 
Madam  Rothsay. 

"Yes,"  replied  Edith,  "and  now,  if  ever,  is  our 
time  to  escape.  Oh,  if  we  were  not  so  helplessly 
bound  and  could  slip  away  into  the  woods  !    I  would 


0 


■\ 


■It 


Mii 


III' 


I 


^:i 


' 


,  , 


I 
1  i,' 


m 


il 


•    I  ■!  f 


'W 


% 


130 


AT  WAR  WITH  PONTIAC 


M 


i 
1 

I 


!    I 


i    I 


■    I 


rather  die  in  an  effort  to  escape  than  suffer  the  agony 
of  this  suspense.  Can't  you  loosen  your  arms  one 
little  bit,  aunty?" 

As  the  girl  spoke  she  strained  at  her  own  bonds 
until  they  sunk  deep  into  her  tender  flesh,  but  with- 
out loosening  them  in  the  slightest. 

The  elder  woman  also  struggled  for  a  moment  with 
all  her  strength,  and  then  sank  back  with  a  groan. 

"  I  can't,  Edith  ^t's  no  use,  and  only  hurts.  No, 
we  can  do  nothing  save  commend  ourselves  to  God 
and  trust  to  his  mercy.  Oh,  my  poor  child!  My 
poor  dear  child !  " 

The  fires  blazed  higher,  the  maddening  liquor 
flowed  like  water,  the  yells  grew  fiercer,  and  the 
dancing  more  furious.  The  lurid  scene  became  a 
very  pandemonium,  and  the  leaping  forms  of  the  sav- 
ages seemed  those  of  so  many  devils.  The  captive 
women  closed  their  eyes  to  shut  out  the  horrid 
picture. 

Suddenly  Edith  uttered  a  stifled  scream  —  a  warm 
breath  was  on  her  neck,  and  a  soft  voice  was  whis- 
pering words  of  comfort  in  her  ear :  — 

"  Hu?h !  Do  not  scream.  Do  not  fear.  You 
shall  be  saved.  I  am  Ah-mo,  daughter  of  Pontiac, 
the  great  chief,  sent  by  my  father  to  see  that  you  are 
not  harmed.  Now  I  will  take  you  away.  It  is  not 
safe  for  you  longer  to  remain  in  this  place.  There. 
Do  not  rise.  You  would  be  seen.  Move  yourself 
carefully  into  the  shadow  behind  the  tree." 


SURPRISE  AND  DESTRUCTION  OF  BOAT  BRIGADE     131 

As  these  words  were  uttered,  Edith's  bonds  were 
severed ;  she  felt  that  she  was  again  free,  and,  filled 
with  courage  born  of  a  new  hope,  she  obeyed  implic- 
itly the  directions  of  her  unseen  friend.  As  she 
gained  the  shadow  she  found  herself  beside  a  girlish 
figure,  who  placed  a  finger  on  her  lips,  and  then  in  a 
whisner  bade  her  speak  to  Madam  Rothsay,  that  she 
might  not  be  frightened  into  an  outcry.  This  Edith 
did,  the  elder  woman  was  released  as  she  had  been, 
and  in  another  minute  the  freed  captives,  trembling 
with  excitement  and  nearly  suffocated  by  the  inten- 
sity of  their  emotions,  were  following,  hand  in  hand, 
their  silently  flitting  guide  in  the  direction  of  the 
lake  shore. 

Their  escape  was  effected  none  too  soon,  for  they 
were  not  gone  a  hundred  yards  when  it  occurred  to 
one  of  the  Indians  who  had  captured  them  to  take  a 
look  at  his  prizes.  His  listless  saunter  toward  where 
he  had  left  them  was  changed  to  movements  of 
bewildered  activity,  as  in  place  of  the  cowering  cap- 
tives, he  found  only  severed  thongs,  and  realized 
that  in  some  mysterious  manner  a  release  had  been 
effected.  He  uttered  a  yell  that  brought  a  number- 
of  his  companions  to  the  spot,  and  in  another  minute 
a  score  or  so  of  half-sobered  savages  were  ranging  the 
forest  in  every  direction  like  sleuth-hounds. 

"  We  must  run ! "  exclaimed  the  Indian  girl,  as 
her  quick  ear  caught  the  significant  cries  announcing 
the  discovery  of  the  escape. 


-'  Ml 

5    '*f 


m 


'  '  -H  ii 


■i*. 


132 


Vr  WAR  WITH  PONTL\C 


'Si 

* 


Now  the  flight  became  a  panting  scramble  over 
logs  and  through  bushes.  Fortunately  the  shore 
was  near  at  hand,  for  Madam  Rothsay  was  ready  to 
sink  from  exhaustion  as  they  reached  it. 

A  low,  bird-like  call  from  Ah-mo  brought  to  the 
beach  a  canoe  that  had  rested  motionless  a  few  rods 
from  shore.  It  held  but  a  single  occupant,  and  as 
it  lightly  touched  the  beach  the  Indian  girl  hurriedly 
assisted  her  breathless  companions  to  enter,  gave  it  a 
vigorous  shove,  took  her  own  place  in  the  stern,  and 
seizing  a  paddle  aided  in  its  rapid  but  noiseless  fligho 
over  the  dark  waters.  The  moon  had  not  yet  risen ; 
and  so,  favored  by  darkness,  a  few  vigorous  strokes 
served  to  place  the  light  craft  beyond  eyesight  of 
those  on  shore.  It  seemed,  though,  as  if  the  savages 
whose  angry  voices  they  could  hear  from  the  very 
spot  of  beach  they  had  just  left  must  see  it,  and  the 
escaped  captives  hardly  breathed  as  they  reflected 
upon  the  narrow  margin  of  safety  by  which  they 
were  separated  from  their  fierce  pursuers.  All  at 
once  there  came  from  these  a  yell  of  triumph 
instantly  succeeded  by  the  sounds  of  a  struggle  and 
followed  a  minute  later  by  cries  of  rejoicing. 

As  these  sounds  receded  from  the  shore,  and  the 
canoe  began  once  more  to  move  forward  under  the 
impetus  of  its  noiseless  paddles,  Ah-mo  leaned 
forward  and  whispered  to  Edith,  who  sat  nearest 
her:  "They  have  taken  some  new  captive.  Perhaps 
it  is  the  commander." 


SURPRISE  AND  DESTRUCTION  OF  BOAT  BRIGADE     133 

"Oh,  I  hope  not! "  murmured  the  girl.  "I  hope  it 
is  not  poor  Mr.  Cuyler."  At  the  thought  a  great 
wave  of  pity  welled  up  in  her  heart.  She  knew  the 
terrible  hopelessness  of  a  captivity  in  those  hands; 
and  though  she  could  not  yet  determine  whether 
she  were  still  a  prisoner  or  not,  her  present  position 
was  blissful  compared  with  what  it  had  been  a  few 
minutes  before. 

If  she  had  known  the  cause  of  those  wild  shouts  of 
rejoicing,  and  who  it  was  that  had  been  made  capt've 
in  her  place,  her  heart  would  indeed  have  been  heavy, 
but  mercifully  the  knowledge  was  spared  to  her. 

In  the  canoe  the  ladies  found  several  of  their  own 
wraps  and  cushions  that  Ah-mo  had  been  thoughtful 
enough  to  secure.  In  these  they  nestled  together 
for  warmth  and  comfort,  and  talking  in  low  tones 
discussed  their  situation  during  the  hours  that  the 
canoe  sped  steadily  onward. 

At  length  the  moon  rose,  and  turning  her  head, 
Edith  gazed  curiously  at  the  girl  behind  her.  She 
could  see  that  she  was  slender  and  very  graceful,  and 
she  imagined  her  to  be  beautiful. 

"How  did  your  father  know  of  our  coming,  and 
why  did  he  send  you  to  care  for  us?"  she  asked  at 
length. 

"  My  father  is  a  great  chief,  and  his  eyes  are  every- 
where," answered  Ah-mo,  proudly.  "He  sent  me 
and  Atoka,  my  brother,  because  he  feared  you  might 
come  to  harm  at  the  hand-,  of  the  Wyandots." 


I;  (J 

1  tl 


iJl 


ii  J  H 


ii  i  illi 

ih;  J  III 


;i 


1      1 


'  i  "3 


'■ .  1 

■I  ♦  'i 
.  i 
ri 
■1 


ill-' 


Ii 


■^/ 1 


i; 


134 


AT    WAR    WITH   PONTIAC 


"But  why  sliould  lie  be  particularly  interested  in 
our  welfare,  more  than  in  that  of  others?" 

"Are  you  not  the  daughter  of  Two  Trees,  the 
white-haired  major,  and  is  he  not  the  friend  of 
Pontiac?  Even  now  he  dwells  in  the  camp  of  my 
father." 

"Do  you  mean  my  father,  Major  Hester?"  cried 
the  bewildered  girl. 

"  Yes." 

"  But  he  can't  be  dwelling  among  the  enemies  of 
the  English.     You  must  be  mistaken,  Ah-mo." 

"  It  is  as  I  have  said,"  replied  the  girl. 

"  Are  you  then  taking  us  to  him  now  ?  " 

"  No.  It  would  not  be  safe.  There  are  too  many 
bad  men  even  in  the  camps  of  the  Ottawas,  and  my 
father  would  have  the  daughter  of  his  friend  removed 
from  all  harm." 

"  Where,  then,  are  you  going  ?  " 

"  You  soon  will  see." 

And  with  this  the  white  girl  was  forced  to  be  content. 

The  night  was  nearly  spent  when  the  canoe  ap- 
proached a  small  island  in  the  middle  of  Lake  Erie, 
but  commanding  the  mouth  of  the  Detroit  river. 
Here  it  was  run  into  a  cove,  and  beached  beside  sev- 
eral other  similar  craft,  Atoka,  the  young  Indian, 
who  had  spoken  no  word  during  all  this  time,  uttered 
a  peculiar  cry  as  he  sprang  ashore,  and  directly  sev- 
eral dark  forms  appeared  from  a  thicket  that  bordered 
the  beach. 


SURPRISE  AND  DESTRUCTION  OF  BOAT  BRIGADE     135 


-  r 


Ah-mo  assured  Edith  that  from  these  men  she  had 
nothing  to  fear,  as  they  were  picked  Ottawa  warriora 
devoted  to  her  father's  interests,  and  stationed  them 
as  outlooks  to  report  the  movements  of  any  vessels 
on  the  lake. 

After  a  few  minutes  of  lively  conversation  between 
them  and  Atoka,  the  whole  party  entered  the  thicket, 
where,  snagly  hidden,  stood  several  Indian  lodges. 
One  of  these  was  quickly  made  ready  for  the  women, 
and  here,  in  spite  of  the  uncertainties  of  their  situa- 
tion. Madam  Rothsay  and  Edith  Hester,  wrapped  in 
their  own  shawls,  soon  fell  into  the  slumber  of  utter 
exhaustion. 


1 1 1 


tl 


»   :i: 


'*' 


■  \ 


I 

i 


'■!  i 


m 


'I.   :  ',  I 


ii';J« 


i 


m 


CHAPTER  XIX 

THE  TOTEM   SAVES  DONALD'S   LIFE 

Exhausted  as  she  was,  Edith  Hester  would 
hardly  have  slept  that  night  had  she  known  that  he 
whose  capture  was  the  direct  result  of  her  flight  was 
her  own  dearly  loved  brother  Donald;  but  so  it  was. 
By  strenuous  exertions,  he  had  so  expedited  the 
movements  of  his  own  party  that  they  had  passed 
two,  and  sometimes  three,  of  Cuyler's  camping-places 
in  a  day.  They  always  examined  these  for  informa- 
tion concerning  those  whom  they  were  so  anxious  to 
overtake,  and  after  a  while  their  anxiety  was  in- 
creased by  the  finding  of  traces  of  Indian  scouts  in 
and  about  every  camping-place.  At  length  the 
camp  sites  gave  proof  of  having  been  so  recently 
occupied,  that  it  seemed  as  though  they  might  sight 
Cuyler's  boats  at  any  time,  and  Paymaster  Bullen, 
in  anticipation  of  a  speedy  meeting  with  the  ladies, 
devoted  so  much  attention  to  his  personal  appearance 
that  never  had  such  a  dandy  as  he  been  seen  in  the 
wilderness. 

As  the  paymaster's  efforts  to  enhance  his  personal 
attractions  increased,  Donald's  ever-growing  anxiety 
led  him  to  become  more  than  ever  impatient  of  such 

136 


THE  TOTEM   SAVES   DONALD'S   LIFE 


137 


things  and  eager  to  hasten  forward.  Ho  Ixjcame 
provoked  at  his  companion's  frivolity,  and  regretted 
ever  having  consented  to  travel  with  him.  When 
he  finally  discovered  the  prints  of  Indian  moccasins 
alx)ut  one  of  Cuyler's  fires,  the  ashes  of  which  were 
still  hot,  he  grew  so  apprehensive  of  evil,  and  so 
impatient  to  get  on,  that  he  refused  to  allow  his 
crew  even  the  scanty  half-hour  of  rest  at  noon  to 
which  they  were  accustomed.  He  so  urged  their 
labors  of  this  day,  by  alternate  threats  and  promises, 
that  the  canoe  reached  the  eastern  side  of  Poinc  au 
Pelee  at  the  very  time  of  Cuyler's  landing  on  its 
western  shore.  Here  Donald  informed  his  men  that 
they  might  cook  their  evening  meal,  and  rest  for  two 
hours,  at  the  end  of  which  time  they  must  be  pre- 
pared to  push  on,  as  he  was  determined  to  overtake 
the  other  party  before  they  broke  camp  on  the 
morrow. 

During  the  preparation  of  supper,  the  young  man 
paced  restlessly  up  and  down  the  beach,  casting 
occasional  scornful  glances  at  the  dapper  little  pay- 
master, who,  with  the  assistance  of  the  faithful 
"Tummas,"  was  taking  his  regular  evening  bath,  in 
his  beloved  tub. 

While  matters  stood  thus,  there  came  a  sound  so 
startling  and  of  such  vital  import  that  all  paused  in 
their  employment  and  held  their  breath  to  listen. 
It  was  the  cry  of  a  woman  in  distress,  faint  and  dis- 
tant, but  unmistakable.    Half  uttered,  it  was   cut 


i 


hi 


r 


^i  • 


I 


1 


AT   WAK    WITH   roNTlAC 

short  by  a  crash  of  j]fuiis,  mingled  with  savage  war- 
whoops,  that  proelaimed  as  elearly  as  words  the  state 
of  affairs  on  the  opposite  side  of  that  narrow  neck 
of  hind. 

In  an  instant,  Donakl  Hester,  so  frenzied  by  his 
sister's  appeal  for  aid  as  to  be  well-nigh  uncon- 
scious of  his  own  movements,  seized  his  rifle,  plunged 
into  the  forest,  and  was  dashing  recklessly  in  the 
direction  of  the  ominous  sounds. 

The  Senecas,  whom  he  thus  left  to  their  own  de- 
vices, and  who  had  long  been  expecting  some  such 
moment,  acted  with  almost  equal  promi)tnehs  in 
making  prisoners  of  the  two  remaining  white  men. 
A  few  minutes  of  animated  discussion  as  to  what 
should  be  done  with  them  ensued.  All  were  impa- 
tient to  join  their  fellow  savages,  and  share  in  the 
spoils  of  their  certain  victory,  to  which  they  also 
wished  to  add  their  own  trophies.  But  what  should 
be  done  with  the  white  medicine  man?  He  was  too 
fat  to  be  urged  at  speei^  through  the  forest.  They 
feared  to  kill  him,  for  they  believed  him  to  be  of  a 
weak  mind,  and  therefore  under  the  direct  protection 
of  the  Great  Spirit.  Besides,  being  bald-headed,  he 
could  furnish  no  scalp,  and  was  therefore  not  worth 
killing. 

In  this  dilemma,  the  Zebra  conceived  an  idea 
which  his  companions  greeted  with  grunts  of  ap- 
proval, and  immediately  proceeded  to  carry  out.  A 
few  minutes  later  the  horrified  paymaster,  as  naked 


THE   TOTEM   SAVES    DONALD'S   LIFE 


130 


as  ivlien  ho  was  boni,  wiis  sciittd  in  his  own  biith- 
tub,  preciirionsly  niiiintainin^  his  hahincc,  and  float- 
ing away  before  a  gentle  otT-shoie  breeze,  over  the 
vast  watery  solitude  of  Lake  Erie. 

As  tlie  Indians  watched  liini,  until  he  was  but  a 
white  speck  in  the  gathering  gh^oni,  they  reasoned 
that  if  he  were  indeed  a  medicine  man  he  could  take 
care  of  himself;  if  he  were  crazy,  the  Great  Spirit 
would  protect  him.  And  if  he  were  merely  an  ordi- 
nary mortal  he  would  surely  b  drowned;  while,  in 
no  case,  would  blame  be  attached  to  them. 

Then  they  gathered  up  his  half-dozen  precious 
wigs,  all  of  which  had  been  laid  out  for  inspection, 
that  their  owner  might  decide  in  which  one  he  should 
appear  before  the  ladies,  but  which  the  Indians  only 
regarded  as  so  many  scalps;  concealed  the  canoe, 
together  with  much  of  their  newly  acquired  prop- 
erty, and  sU^rted  toward  the  scene  of  battle.  Two 
stalwart  warriors,  seizing  the  unfortunate  and  be- 
wildered "  Tummas  "  by  the  shoulders,  rushed  him 
along  at  breathless  speed,  occasionally  urging  him 
to  greater  exertions  by  suggestive  pricks  from  the 
sharp  points  of  their  knives. 

Although  Donald  had  started  to  the  assistance  of 
his  imperilled  sister  with  a  recklessness  that  disre- 
garded all  the  traditions  of  woodcraft,  he  came  to 
his  senses  as  he  drew  near  the  scene  of  recent  con- 
flict, and  thereafter  no  forest  warrior  could  have  pro- 
ceeded with  greater  stealth  than  he. 


Ml 


II"' 


■<• 


■I 


'I 


) 


1  mm 


140 


AT   WAR    WITH   PONTIAC 


I   li 


I! 


The  short  lij^ht  was  over,  tlic  prisoners  wore  se- 
cured, many  fires  had  been  lighted,  and  the  deadly 
work  of  the  fire-water  was  already  Ixjgun.  With  a 
heavy  heart  and  a  sickening  dread,  the  young  sol- 
dier crept  noiselessly  from  one  lighted  circle  to 
another,  narrowly  escaping  discovery  a  dozen  times, 
and  scanning  anxiously  ejich  dejected  group  of  cap- 
tives. All  were  men,  nor  could  he  anywhere  catch 
a  glimpse  of  feminine  draperies.  At  one  place  he 
saw  a  confused  group,  of  what  ho  fancied  might  be 
captives,  on  the  opposite  side  of  a  fire-lighted  open- 
ing, and  made  a  great  circuit  through  the  woods  in 
order  to  approach  it  more  closely. 

Suddenly  there  arose  a  clamor  of  voices,  and,  as 
though  aware  of  his  presence,  a  score  of  savages, 
some  of  them  holding  aloft  blazing  firebrands,  came 
running  through  the  forest  directly  toward  him. 
There  was  no  time  for  flight,  and  he  could  only  fling 
himself  flat  beside  the  trunk  of  a  prostrate  tree,  up 
to  which  he  had  just  crawled,  ere  they  were  upon 
him.  A  dozen  warriors  passed  him,  leaping  over 
both  the  log  and  the  crouching  figure  behind  it.  He 
was  beginning  to  cherish  a  hope  that  all  might  do 
so;  but  such  good  fortune  was  not  to  be  his.  An- 
other, who  bore  a  flaming  brand,  slipped  as  he 
bounded  over  the  obstruction.  A  shower  of  blazing 
embers  fell  on  Donald's  head  and  bare  neck.  Mad- 
dened by  pain,  he  sprang  to  his  feet,  dealt  the  stum- 
bling savage  a  blow  that  knocked  him  flat,  and 


THE  TOTEM  SAVES  DONALD'S  LIFE 


141 


turned  to  fly  for  his  life.  As  he  did  so,  he  was 
grappled  by  two  othei-s,  and  though  he  struggled  so 
furiously  that  ho  managed  to  fling  them  both  from 
him,  the  delay  was  fatal.  A  moment  later  he  was 
borne  to  the  earth  by  overwhelming  numbers. 

When  again  allowed  to  rise  it  was  as  a  pinioned 
prisoner,  bruised  and  breathless.  With  exulting 
shouts,  his  captors  dragged  him  into  tl«e  circle  of 
firelight,  and  when  they  saw  that  he  was  not  one  of 
Cuyler*s  men,  but  a  newcomer,  they  were  extrava- 
gant in  their  joy.  They  were  also  furious  against 
him  on  account  of  the  escape  of  the  women  captives, 
in  which  it  was  supposed  he  had  been  instrumental. 
Half-crazed  with  drink  as  they  were,  they  deter- 
mined that  he  should  pay  the  penalty  for  this  offence 
then  and  there. 

"  Let  the  palefaced  dcg  roast  in  the  flames  I " 

"Burn  him  I" 

"  Fling  him  into  the  fire  I " 

"He  has  sought  our  company;  let  us  give  him  a 
warm  welcome  I  '* 

"  It  will  be  a  lesson  to  others  of  his  kind  not  to 
meddle  with  our  prisoners  I  " 

"  Let  him  feel  that  the  vengeance  of  the  Wyandots 
is  sudden  and  awful  I  " 

These,  with  many  similar  cries,  rent  the  night  air, 
and  though  Donald  understood  no  word  of  what 
was  said,  he  knew  from  the  savage  expression  of 
the    faces    crowding   about    him    that    he    wars    to 


II 


i 


:i 


i 


f: 


I;] 


]^\ 


i 


142 


AT  WAR    WITH  PONTIAC 


!!    P 


! 


! 


suffer  some  dreadful  fate^  and  nerved  himself  to 
bear  it. 

If  he  must  die,  it  should  be  as  became  one  of  his 
race  and  training.  But,  oh!  it  was  hard!  He  was 
so  young,  so  full  of  life  and  hope.  Could  he  hold 
out  to  the  bitter  end  ?  Yes,  he  must.  He  had  chosen 
to  be  a  soldier.  He  was  a  soldier.  Other  soldiers 
had  met  their  death  by  savage  torture  and  faced  it 
bravely.  What  they  had  done,  he  must  do.  But 
was  there  no  help  for  him,  none  at  all?  As  he 
searched  the  scowling  faces  of  those  who  thronged 
about  him,  reviling,  taunting,  and  revelling  in  his 
despair,  he  saw  no  trace  of  mercy,  no  pity,  no  gleam 
of  hope.     He  knew  that  there  was  no  help. 

With  it  all,  there  was  one  consolation.  He  could 
discover  no  sign  of  his  beloved  sister.  She,  at  least, 
would  be  spared  the  sight  of  his  torments.  She 
might  even  by  some  miracle  have  escaped. 

They  dragged  him  roughly,  and  with  maudlin 
shoutings,  to  a  s^riall  tree  that  stood  by  itself,  and 
bound  him  to  it  with  so  many  lashings  that  only  his 
head  was  free  to  move.  Then  they  heaped  dry  wood 
about  him,  piling  it  up  until  it  was  above  his  waist. 

He  knew  now  what  he  was  to  be  called  upon  to 
endu.'^.  No  words  were  needed  to  tell  him  that  he 
was  to  be  burned  alive,  and  he  prayed  that  they 
would  pile  the  wood  higher,  that  death  might  come 
the  more  quickly.  But  some  among  his  tormentors 
thought  it  was  already  too  high,  and  in  their  desire 


THE  TOTEM  SAVES  DONALD'S  LIFE 


143 


Jt. 


re 


to  prolong  his  sufferings  they  tore  away  a  portion  of 
the  pile.  Others  insisted  that  it  was  not  enough, 
and  attempted  to  build  it  higher;  and  so  they 
wrangled  among  themselves,  until  one,  to  settle  the 
dispute,  ran  for  a  blazing  brand  and  thrust  it  among 
the  faggots  that  still  remained. 

By  this  time,  news  of  what  was  taking  place  had 
spread  abroad,  and  many  from  other  scenes  of  revelry 
came  running  to  participate  in  this  new  diversion. 
As  a  bright  blaze  leaped  through  the  crackling  wood 
and  revealed  distinctly  the  pallid  face  of  the  victim, 
there  was  first  a  yell  of  delight  and  then  a  great 
hush  of  expectancy,  while  all  watched  eagerly  to  see 
how  he  would  bear  the  first  touch  of  flame. 

At  this  moment,  there  came  a  commotion  in  the 
crowd.  A  single  figure,  with  face  hideously  painted 
in  narrow  stripes,  broke  from  it,  sprang  forward,  and 
dashing  aside  the  blazing  wood,  shouted  a  few  words 
in  a  tongue  that  was  strange  to  most  of  them,  though 
some  understood.  These  translated  what  was  said 
to  the  others,  and  in  a  few  seconds  every  warrior  was 
repeating  in  awed  tones  to  his  neighbor:  — 

"  He  is  of  the  Metai !  He  is  of  the  Totem  of  the 
Bear!  The  mark  is  on  his  arm!  If  he  dies  at  our 
hands,  then  shall  we  feel  the  wrath  of  the  magic 
circle  I" 

In  a  moment  Donald's  hunting-shirt  was  stripped 
from  him,  his  left  arm  was  bared,  and  at  sight  of, 
the  indelible  signet  thus  exposed  a  great  fear  fell 


J:! 


<ft 


i       \q 


I 


!  I   1  li 
I 


il 


^■  ■  ( 


,  - 1  ■ 


I 


"11 


•  'r 


iW 


144 


AT  WAR   WITH  PONTIAC 


upon  the  savages.  At  once  those  who  had  been  most 
eager  for  the  death  of  the  prisoner,  became  foremost 
in  friendly  offices  that  they  hoped  might  banish  their 
offence  from  his  mind,  and  Donald  breathed  a  prayer 
of  thankfulness  for  his  wonderful  deliverance. 


f 


?  .J 

i 


St 

It 

ir 


CHAPTER  XX 

BITTER   DISAPPOINTMENT   AT   FORT   DETROIT 

The  month  elapsed  since  Donald  left  Detroit  had 
bfjen  to  the  imprisoned  garrison  of  that  important 
post  a  period  of  gloom  and  incessant  anxiety.  Al- 
though)  after  the  first  outbreak,  no  general  attack 
had  been  made  on  the  place,  the  rigor  of  its  siege 
had  not  for  a  moment  been  relaxed.  It  was  seldom 
that  an  Indian  was  to  be  seen ;  but  if  a  soldier  ex- 
posed himself  above  the  walls  or  at  a  loop-hole,  the 
venomous  hiss  of  a  bullet  instantly  warned  him  of 
his  peril,  and  of  the  tireless  vigilance  of  the  unseen 
foe.  Provisions  became  so  scarce  that  every  ounce 
of  food  was  carefully  collected  in  one  place,  kept 
under  guard,  and  sparingly  doled  out  each  morning. 
The  faces  of  men  and  women  grew  wan  and  pinched 
with  hunger,  while  the  children  clamored  inces- 
santly for  food.  If  it  had  not  been  for  the  brave  aid 
of  a  French  farmer,  dwelling  across  the  river,  who 
occasionally,  on  dark  nights,  smuggled  scanty  sup- 
plies to  the  beleaguered  garrison,  they  would  have 
been  forced  by  starvation  to  a  surrender. 

In  all  this  time  no  man  slept,  save  in  his  clothes, 
and  with  a  gun  by  his  side.  Night  alarms  were  fre- 
h  145 


IIM 


I 


'i 


:      Ij 


p 


146 


AT  WAU   WITH  FONTIAC 


I 

if 


'% 


I 


f 


quent,  and  only  incessant  watchfulness  averted  the 
destruction  of  the  place  by  fire,  from  arrows  tipped 
with  blazing  tow,  that  fell  at  all  hours,  with  greater 
or  less  frequency,  on  the  thatched  roofs  within  the 
palisades. 

With  all  this,  there  was  no  thought  of  yielding  in 
the  minds  of  Gladwyn  ur  his  men.  The  red  cross 
of  St.  George  still  floated  proudly  above  them,  and 
each  evening  the  sullen  boom  of  th'i  sunset  gun 
echoed  defiantly  across  the  waters  of  the  broad  river. 

While  the  Indians  could  not  be  induced  to  attempt 
a  general  assault  upon  the  slight  defences,  in  spite 
of  its  prospects  of  almost  certain  success,  Pontiac 
so  skilfully  disposed  his  forces  that  not  only  was 
the  fort  under  constant  watch,  but  no  one  could 
approach  it  in  any  direction  without  discovery. 
They,  too,  collected  all  the  provisions  within  their 
reach,  purchasing  quantities  from  the  Canadians, 
and  gathering  them  in  the  commodious  house  that 
still  held  Major  Hester  a  prisoner-guest.  Eagerly 
as  the  besieged  watched  for  reinforcements  and  sup- 
plies, the  Indians  were  no  less  keenly  on  the  lookout 
for  the  same  things. 

Knowing  that  Cuyler's  expedition  must  have 
started  from  Fort  Niagara,  Major  Gladwyn  de- 
spatched the  schooner  that  bore  his  name  down  the 
lake,  to  intercept,  v/arn,  and  hasten  it.  The  Q-lad- 
wyn  narrowly  escaped  capture  by  a  great  fleet  of 
canoes,  as  she  lay  becalmed  at  the  mouth  of  the  river. 


BITTER  DISAPPOINTMENT  AT  FORT  DETROIT    147 


and  was  only  saved  by  the  springing  up  of  a  timely 
breeze.  She  failed  to  discover  the  object  of  her 
search,  and  finally  reached  the  Niagara  without  hav- 
ing delivered  her  warning. 

It  was  now  time  for  her  return,  while  Cuyler 
should  have  arrived  long  since;  and  day  after  day 
were  the  eyes  of  the  weary  garrison  directed  down 
the  shining  river,  in  efforts  to  detect  the  first  glint 
of  sails  or  flash  of  oars. 

While  matter"  stood  thus,  there  came,  late  one 
afternoon,  a  loud  cry,  announcing  joyful  tidings, 
from  the  sentinel  on  one  of  the  river  bastions.  His 
shout  was  taken  up  and  repeated  by  all  who  happened 
to  be  on  the  water  front,  and  in  a  minute  the  whole 
place  was  astir.  The  inhabitants  poured  into  the  nar- 
row streets  and  hastened  to  the  river's  edge,  their 
haggard  faces  lighted  with  a  new  hope  and  their 
eager  voices  exchanging  the  welcome  news.  The  long- 
expected  reinforcements  had  come  at  last.  The  boats 
were  in  sight.  They  had  escaped  the  perils  of  their 
journey  and  were  safely  arrived.  Now  the  danger  was 
over,  and  all  would  again  be  well  with  Detroit. 

As  the  motley  throng  of  soldiers,  in  soiled  uni- 
forms, traders,  voyageurs,  pale-faced  women,  and 
wondering  children,  streamed  to  the  narrow  beach 
beyond  the  water  gate,  all  could  see  the  approaching 
boats  as,  in  long-extended  line  and  with  flashing 
oars,  one  after  another  rounded  the  last  wooded  point 
and  advanced  slowly  up  th(3  river. 


i| 


n  1 


m 


|;«    ! 


148 


AT  WAR   WITU   PONTIAC 


From  the  stem  of  the  foremost  boat  flew  the  red 
flag  of  England.  As  it  drew  near,  cheer  after  cheer 
broke  from  the  excited  garrison,  while  from  the  ram- 
part above  them  a  loud-voiced  cannon  boomed  forth 
it  assurance  that  the  fort  still  held  out. 

Alas,  for  the  high  hopes  of  the  stout  defenders! 
Their  joy  was  quickly  quenched ;  for  when  the  long 
column  of  eighteen  boats  was  in  full  view,  and  the 
rejoicing  was  at  its  height,  dark,  naked  figures  sud- 
denly leaped  up,  with  brandished  weapons  and  ex- 
ulting yells,  in  every  boat.  The  fierce  war-whoop 
came  quavering  over  the  water,  and  in  a  moment  the 
dreadful  truth  was  known,.  The  entire  convoy  had 
been  captured,  and  was  in  the  enemy's  hands. 

As  the  mournful  procession  of  boats  moved  past, 
though  well  over  toward  the  opposite  bank  of  the 
river,  the  disheartened  garrison  saw  that  each  was 
rowed  by  two  or  more  white  captives,  who  were 
guarded  and  forced  to  their  labor  by  armed  savages. 
As  the  heavy-hearted  spectators  were  about  to  turn 
away  from  this  distressing  sight,  a  thrilling  incident 
absorbed  their  attention,  and  held  them  spellbound. 

The  last  boat  contained  four  white  men  and  but 
three  Indians.  One  of  the  former  was  Donald 
Hester,  and  he  it  was  who  steered.  Although  he 
had  been  well  treated  by  his  captors,  after  the  mystic 
marking  on  his  arm  to  which  the  Zebra  attracted 
their  attention  had  saved  him  from  an  awful  death, 
he  was  still  held  a  close  prisoner,  and  was  still  un- 


i 


BITTER   DISAITOINTMENT  AT  FORT   DETROIT     149 

certain  as  to  the  fate  reserved  for  him.  This,  how- 
ever, concerned  him  little.  Nothing  could  be  worse 
than  the  mental  suffering  he  had  already  undergone, 
and  his  present  anxiety  was  only  for  his  sister  Edith. 
What  had  become  of  her  ?  Where  was  she,  and  by 
what  perils  was  she  surrounded  ?  He  became  frantic 
as  he  reflected  upon  her  helplessness  and  the  re- 
straints that  prevented  him  from  flying  to  her  assist- 
ance. He  had  learned  from  his  fellow-captives  that 
nothing  had  been  seen  of  her  nor  of  her  companion 
after  the  attack  on  Cuyler's  camp,  and  also  that  two 
boats,  containing  many  fugitives^  had  effected  an 
escape.  She  must  then  be  in  one  of  those,  and  if 
she  were,  what  might  she  not  be  suffering,  without 
food  or  shelter,  and  liable  at  any  moment  to  fall  into 
the  hands  of  some  roving  band  of  sava<^es ?  For  her 
sake,  he  must  regain  his  freedom.  Yes,  he  must, 
and  he  would.  Why  not  strike  for  it  at  that 
very  moment?  Would  he  ever  have  a  better 
chance? 

As  the  last  boat  came  abreast  of  the  schooner 
Beaver^  surging  at  her  cables  not  more  than  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  away,  Donald  called  out  in  English  to  the 
rowers  in  his  boat  that  each  should  seize  one  of  the 
Indian  guards  and  throw  him  overboard,  while  he 
would  stand  ready  to  aid  any  one,  or  all  of  them,  in 
the  undertaking. 

The  soldier  nearest  him  replied  that  he  feared  he 
had  not  the  requisite  strength. 


I 


!*l 


1  1 


li 


i! 

m 

I 
fifl 


I 


150 


AT   WAR    WITH   I'ONTIAC 


1^  I 

If, 


i\ 


"Very  well,"  said  Donald;  "pretend  exhaustion 
and  change  places  with  me." 

As  this  Oxaer  was  obeyed  and  the  young  ensign 
stepped  forward,  as  though  to  take  his  comrade's 
place,  he  suddenly  seized  hold  of  an  unsuspecting 
Indian,  lifted  him  bodily,  and  flung  him  into  the 
liver.  At  the  same  moment  the  savage  clutched  his 
assailant  cl  Ling,  and  as  he  cleared  the  boat 
dragged  Di>>f  vl:;  after  him  over  its  side.  The  two 
remaining  L  iiani. ,  -seized  with  a  panic,  leaped  over- 
board and  struck  out  for  shore,  while  the  three  sol- 
diers, bending  to  their  oars,  directed  their  craft  with 
desperate  energy  toward  the  schooner,  followed  by  a 
storm  of  bullets  and  a  dozen  canoes. 

In  the  meantime,  Donald  and  his  antagonist,  swept 
away  by  the  current,  were  engaged  in  a  frightful 
struggle  for  life  and  death,  now  rising  gasping  to 
the  surface,  then  sinking  to  unknown  depths, 
but  always  grappling,  and  clutching  at  each  other's 
throat. 

At  length,  when  it  seemed  to  the  white  lad  that 
he  had  spent  an  eternity  in  the  cruel  green  depths, 
when  his  ears  were  bursting  and  his  eyes  starting 
from  their  sockets,  he  found  himself  once  more  at 
the  surface,  breathing  in  great  gulps  of  the  blessed 
air,  and  alone.  For  a  moment  he  could  not  believe 
it,  but  gazed  wildly  about  him,  expecting  each  in- 
stant to  feel  the  awful  clutch  that  should  again  drag 
him  under.     He  was  nearly  exhausted,  and  so  weak 


BITTER   DISAPPOtNTMKNT   AT   FORT   DETROrr     161 


that  liiul  not  a  floating  oar  come  within  his  reach  ho 
must  quickly  have  sunk,  to  rise  no  more. 

Clinging  feel)ly  to  that  Heaven-sent  bit  of  wood, 
he  kept  his  face  above  the  water  while  his  spt.  1 
strength  was  gradually  restored. 

At  the  boom  of  a  cannon,  he  lifted  his  head  a  little 
higher,  and  looked  back.  A  cloud  of  blue  smoke 
was  drifting  away  from  the  now  distant  schooner,  a 
boat  was  alongside,  and  a  fleet  of  canoes  was  scurry- 
ing out  of  range.  His  recent  companions  had 
then  escaped,  and  pursuit  of  the  a  id  so  attracted 
the  attention  of  the  Indians  tha'  iiol,  had  given  him 
a  thought.  They  doubtless  i.vv.^r  questioned  but 
what  that  death  grapple  in  the  water  had  resulted 
fatally  to  both  contestants.  L  ;  iiuch  the  better  for 
him.  No  search  would  be  made,  and  he  might  escape, 
after  all.  And  dear  Edith!  At  length  he  was  free 
to  go  in  search  of  her.  With  this  thought  the  lad 
took  a  new  hold  on  life,  grasped  his  friendly  oar 
more  firmly,  and  tried  to  plan  some  course  of  action. 

Making  no  motion  that  might  attract  hostile  atten- 
tion, he  drifted  passively,  until  the  sun  had  set  in  a 
flood  of  glory,  and  the  stars  peeped  timidly  down  at 
]iim  from  their  limitless  heights.  By  this  time  he 
was  some  miles  below  the  fort,  and  near  the  eastern 
bank  of  the  river.  Though  he  had  seen  many  canoes 
pass  up  stream,  at  a  distance  so  great  that  he  was 
not  noticed,  there  was  now  neither  sign  nor  sound  of 
human  presence,  and  very  gently  the  young  soldier 


>"3 

n 


ir 


162 


AT   WAR   WITH    PONTIAC 


began  to  swim  toward  land.  How  blessed  it  was  to 
touch  bottom  again,  then  to  drag  himself  cautiously 
and  wearily  into  a  clump  of  tall  sedges,  and  lie  once 
more  on  the  substantial  bosom  of  mother  earth.  For 
an  hour  or  more  he  slept,  and  then,  greatly  re- 
freshed, he  awoke  to  renewed  activity. 


ii 


I  i 


CHAPTER   XXI 

IN  SEARCH  OP   A   LOST  SISTER 

Donald  had  no  difficulty  in  finding  the  broad  trail 
that  connected  all  the  widely  scattered  Indian  vil- 
lages on  the  east  bank  of  the  river,  and  when  he 
reached  it  he  instinctively  turned  to  the  south.  The 
main  body  of  the  enemy  lay  to  the  northward,  and 
to  proceed  in  that  dire  jtion  would  be  the  height  of 
folly.  There  was  still  one  small  camp  below  him, 
as  Donald  knew  from  having  seen  it  that  morning 
when  on  his  way  up  the  river,  and  to  this  he  deter- 
mined to  go.  He  needed  food,  clothing,  arms,  and 
a  canoe.  All  of  these  might  be  obtained  in  an 
Indian  camp,  as  well  as  elsewhere,  if  only  one  dared 
go  in  search  of  them  and  possessed  the  skill  neces- 
sary to  secure  them.  Much  also  would  depend  on 
chance ;  but,  after  his  recent  experiences,  the  young 
soldier  felt  assured  that  he  had  been  born  under  a 
propitious  star.  At  any  rate,  he  was  ready  to  do 
and  dare  anything  in  furtherance  of  his  present 
plan,  and  so  he  set  forth  at  a  brisk  pace  in  search  of 
some  source  of  supplies. 

He  had  covered  several  miles  with  every  sense 
keenly  alert,  but  without  detecting  an  indication  of 

168 


f 


'« 


I 
ji 

1 1 
ill 


|i 


il^: 


1 


i 


I 


,i 


ir.4 


AT    WAH    WITH    I'ONTIAC 


liuinfin  proweiico,  wlicn  he  .suddenly  sinelled  an  Indian 
t!ii(!iini[)nieiit.  He  could  neither  see  nor  hear  any- 
tliiiio-  of  it,  hut  no  one  having  once  recognized  the 
pUMi^-cMt  odor,  coudjined  of  smoke,  skins,  furs,  freshly 
|)euled  l»ark,  dried  giiUvses,  and  decayed  animal  matter, 
that  lingers  ahout  the  rude  dwellings  of  all  savage 
races,  could  ever  mistake  it  for  anything  else.  A 
single  faint  whifT  of  this,  borne  to  Donald,  on  a  puff 
of  the  night  wind,  guve  him  the  very  knowledge  he 
wanted,  and  he  at  once  began  to  move  with  the  same 
caution  that  he  had  observed  on  the  previous  even- 
ing while  creeping  up  to  the  fire-lighted  circles  of 
the  victorious  Wycindots.  - 

It  was  perilous  business,  this  venturing  into  a 
camp  of  hostile  Indians  through  the  darkness,  but 
Donald  reflected  that  it  would  be  even  worse  by  day- 
light. He  also  argued,  that  while  success  in  his  pro- 
posed thieving  would  mean  everything  to  him,  he 
could  not  be  worse  off  than  he  was  a  few  hours  since, 
even  if  he  failed  and  was  captured.  So  he  crept 
forward  with  the  noiseless  motions  of  a  serpent,  until 
the  conical  lodges  were  plainly  in  view  by  the  dim 
light  of  smoldering  camp-fires. 

There  Was  one  feature  of  this  camp  that  greatly 
puzzled  our  young  woodsman,  and  that  was  its 
silence.  Surely  the  night  was  too  young  for  all 
the  inmates  of  those  lodges  to  have  retired,  and  yet 
there  was  no  sound  of  voices.  Not  even  the  wail 
of  a  child  was  to  be  heard  nor  the  barking  of  a  dog. 


IN   SEAUCII   OF   A   LOST  SISTKR 


1^5 


Tt  was  unaccoun table,  and  p^avo  Donald  a  creepy 
feeling  that  lu;  tried  in  vain  to  nhake  otf.  He  moved 
with  an  even  greater  caution  than  if  ho  had  been 
guided  by  the  usual  sounds  of  such  a  place  and 
spent  a  full  hour  in  examining  the  camp  from  all 
points  before  daring  to  enter  it. 

At  length  lie  detected  a  faint  muttering  in  one  of 
the  lodges  and  a  reply  to  it;  but  both  voices  were 
those  of  (querulous  age.  A  moment  later  the  totter- 
ing figure  ot  an  old  man  emerged  from  the  lodge, 
and  crouching  beside  a  dying  fire  threw  on  a  few 
sticks  with  shaking  hands  and  drew  his  blanket 
more  closely  about  his  shrunken  form. 

In  an  instant  a  full  meaning  of  the  situation  flashed 
into  Donald's  mind.  The  camp  was  deserted  of  all 
except  the  infirm  and  very  aged.  All  the  others  — 
men,  women,  children,  and  even  the  very  dogs  —  had 
gone  to  participate  in  the  festivities  of  the  up-river 
camps  to  which  so  many  white  prisoners  had  that 
day  been  taken.  He  shuddered  to  contemplate  the 
nature  of  these  festivities,  —  the  tortures,  the  anguish, 
and  the  fearful  tragedies  that  would  furnish  their 
entertainment;  but  he  no  longer  hesitated  to  enter 
this  deserted  camp  and  appropriate  such  of  its  prop- 
erties as  suited  his  fancy. 

From  the  very  fire  beside  which  the  old  man 
crouched  and  shivered,  he  took  a  blazing  biand  and 
using  it  to  light  his  way  entered  the  lodge  irom 
which  the  former  had  emerged.      ft  seemed  empty 


111 


4 


i! 


l! 


156 


AT   WAR  WITH  PONTIAC 


I' 


of  everything  save  that  in  one  corner,  on  a  heap  of 
dried  grasses,  there  lay  an  old  wrinkled  hag,  who 
stared  at  him  with  keen  beady  eyes,  and  then  set 
up  a  shrill  screaming  that  caused  him  to  beat  a 
hasty  retreat. 

He  fared  better  in  other  lodges,  some  of  which  were 
empty  of  inmates,  and  some  occupied  by  persons  too 
aged  or  ill  to  harm  him.  These  either  cowered 
trembling  before  him,  or  spit  at  and  reviled  him 
with  distorted  features  and  gestures  of  impotent 
rage.  It  was  an  unpleasant  task,  this  taking  advan- 
tage of  helplessness  to  walk  off  with  other  people's 
property ;  but  under  the  circumstances  it  seemed  to 
Donald  right,  and  he  was  soon  clad  in  the  complete 
buckskin  costume  of  a  warrior,  besides  having  accu- 
mulated a  comfortable  store  of  provisions.  He  was 
grievously  disappointed  at  not  discovering  a  rifle, 
nor  indeed  a  firearm  of  any  kind,  and  being  obliged 
to  put  up  with  a  hunting-kuife  as  his  sole  weapon. 
Still,  on  the  whole,  he  had  so  little  cause  for  com- 
plaint that  as  he  left  the  camp  and  made  his  way 
to  the  landing  where  he  hoped  to  find  a  canoe  he 
congratulated  himself  upon  his  good  fortune. 

It  seemed  to  fail  him,  however,  at  the  river-bank ; 
for,  search  as  he  might,  he  could  not  find  a  canoe  nor 
a  craft  of  any  kind.  Now,  he  was  indeed  in  a  quan- 
dary. It  would  be  worse  than  useless  to  return  to 
the  Indian  camp,  that  might  at  any  moment  be 
repeopled.     He  dared  not  go  up  the  river,  for  that 


Tf 


,n- 
to 
be 
lat 


IN  SEARCH   OF  A  LOST  SISTER 


167 


way  lay  the  hosts  of  Pontiac  ;  nor  could  he  cross  it 
and  make  his  way  to  the  fort.  There  was  obviously 
but  one  course  to  pursue,  which  was  to  keep  on  down 
stream  until  he  had  put  a  safe  distance  between  him- 
self and  the  Indian  camp,  and  then  to  wait  for  day- 
light by  which  to  resume  his  search  for  a  canoe. 

This  he  did,  fii'st  wading  for  a  long  distance  in  the 
shallow  water  close  to  shore  to  conceal  his  trail,  and 
then  plodding  sturdily  ahead  through  the  bewilder- 
ing darkness  of  the  forest  for  hours,  until  finally, 
overcome  by  exhaustion,  he  sank  down  at  the  foot 
of  a  great  tree  and  almost  instantly  fell  asleep. 

When  Donald  next  awoke,  stiff  and  aching  in  every 
joint,  the  rising  sun  warned  him  that  he  must  lose  no 
time  in  placing  a  greater  distance  between  himself 
and  those  who  would  soon  be  on  his  trail,  if,  indeed, 
the  pursuit  were  not  already  begun.  So  he  set  off  at 
a  brisk  pace,  still  keeping  the  general  southerly  direc- 
tion on  which  he  had  determined  until  he  should 
reach  the  lake.  He  had  not  walked  more  than  two 
hours,  and  was  staying  his  stomach  with  a  handful 
of  parched  corn  brought  from  the  Indian  camp, 
when,  all  at  once,  he  found  himself  amid  the  re- 
mains of  recent  camp-fires  on  ground  that  was  much 
trampled.  It  was  the  very  scene  of  his  capture  by  the 
Wyandots  and  of  his  narrow  escape  from  death.  Yes, 
there  was  the  identical  tree  to  which  he  had  been 
bound.  Turning,  with  a  shudder,  he  hastened  from 
the  place  of  such  horrid  memories,  and  instinctively 


it 


"■i 


I 


m 


'    ri 


i- 


ire 


168 


AT  WAR   WITH  PONTIAC 


: 


m 


t  i, 


}  -a 
IE 


^i 


retraced  his  course  of  two  nights  before  across  the 
narrow  neck  of  land  that  had  proved  fatal  to  so  many 
of  his  countrymen,  and  on  which  the  dear  sister  whom 
he  now  sought  had  last  been  seen. 

Reaching  the  eastern  side  of  the  point,  and  skirting 
the  shore  for  a  short  distance,  he  came  upon  another 
place  of  camping,  which  he  instantly  recognized  as 
the  spot  where  he  had  left  Paymaster  Bullen. 

"Poor  old  Bullen!"  he  reflected  half  aloud.  "I 
wonder  what  he  thought  of  my  deserting  him  the 
way  I  did;  and  I  also  wonder  what  became  of  him. 
I  suppose  he  must  be  dead  long  before  this,  and 
'Tummas,'  too,  poor  fellow;  for  I  didix  t  see  anything 
of  them  among  the  prisoners  yesterday.  I  never 
trusted  those  Senecas;  but  Wilkins  was  so  cocksure 
of  them  that  he  wouldn't  listen  to  a  word  against 
them.  Wonder  what  he'll  say  now.  I  wouldn't 
be  here  at  this  moment,  though,  if  it  hadn't  been  for 
that  fellow,  *  Zebra,'  as  Bullen  called  him.  Queer 
how  things  turn  out  in  this  funny  old  world !  I  only 
wish  I  knew  just  what  that  tattooing  on  my  arm 
means,  and  what  the  Metai  is,  anyway.  If  I  did,  I 
might  turn  the  knowledge  to  advantage.  Hello ! 
Something  has  been  carried  into  those  bushes, — 
the  paymaster's  tub  for  a  guinea." 

During  his  soliloquy  the  young  woodsman's  trained 
eye  rested  on  a  broken  twig  and  a  bit  of  bruised  bark 
at  the  edge  of  a  near-by  thicket.  Stepping  to  the 
place  and  parting  the  bushes,  he  uttered  a  cry  of  joy. 


IN  SEARCH   OF  A  LOST  SISTER 


160 


There,  bottom-side  up,  and  imperfectly  concealed,  as 
though  in  great  haste,  lay  the  canoe  in  which  he  had 
so  recently  journeyed.  Beneath  it  he  found  a  rifle 
that  had  belonged  to  the  paymaster,  as  well  as  most 
of  his  luggage,  which  included  a  good  supply  of  am- 
munition, provisions,  and  cooking-utensils.  In  fact, 
nearly  everything  that  the  canoe  had  contained  was 
there  excepting  its  passengers  and  the  redoubtable 
tub. 

"  The  disappearance  of  that  tub  is  the  strangest 
thing  of  all,"  muttered  Donald,  as,  exulting  in  this 
sudden  wealth,  he  hastened  to  build  a  fire  and  make 
the  cup  of  coffee  for  which  he  was  longing.  "  What 
reason  could  the  beggars  have  had  for  lugging  it  off? 
and  why  didn't  I  see  something  of  it  in  the  boats 
yesterday  ?  Too  bad  about  Bullen,  though,  for  he 
was  a  good  fellow  in  spite  of  his  crotchets." 

The  daring  plan  that  forced  itself  in  Donald's 
mind  the  minute  he  saw  that  canoe  was  to  cross  Lake 
Erie  in  it  to  Sandusky.  There  he  would  certainly 
learn  what  had  become  of  Cuyler  and  those  who 
escaped  with  him.  Perhaps  he  would  even  find 
Edith  there. 

He  was  off  the  moment  he  had  finished  the  hearty 
breakfast  that  restored  his  strength,  his  confidence 
in  himself  and  his  belief  that  everything  was  about 
to  turn  out  for  the  best,  after  all.  Nor  did  his  good 
fortune  desert  him,  for  the  l)road  surface  of  the  great 
lake  was  as  peaceful  as  a  mill-poua  ail  that  day  ;  the 


f 

■i 


i. 


m 

Hi 


i; 


Hi 
1. 1 


.; 


if 


I 


160 


AT  WAR   WITH  PONTIAC 


light  breeze  that  ruffled  it  was  so  directly  in  his  favor 
that  he  was  enabled  to  aid  his  paddle  with  a  sail,  and 
at  sunset  he  was  nearing  the  southern  coast.  Camp- 
ing where  he  landed,  he  cooked,  ate,  and  slept,  start- 
ing again  at  break  of  day  for  Sandusky,  full  of  hope 
and  anticipations  of  a  warm  welcome  in  that  stout 
little  post. 

The  sun  was  barely  an  hour  high  when  he  reached 
his  destination,  only  to  find  a  mass  of  charred  and 
desolate  ruins,  that  told  with  a  mute  eloquence  of 
the  fate  that  had  overtaken  Sandusky. 


':n 


U   t 


CHAPTER  XXII 

AMID  THE  RUINS  OP  FORT  SANDUSKY 

To  discover  only  ruin,  desolation,  and  death,  in- 
stead of  the  cheery  greetings  of  friends  and  the 
longed-for  intelligence  of  Edith's  safety  that  he  had 
so  confidently  expected  to  gain  at  Sandusky,  was 
so  bitter  a  disappointment  as  to  be  bewildering,  and 
it  was  some  time  ere  Donald  could  do  aught  save 
wander  like  one  who  is  dazed,  among  the  melancholy 
ruins.  He  recalled  his  pleasant  reception  by  Ensign 
Paully,  the  commanding  officer,  only  a  monti>  before 
when  he  had  stopped  there  on  his  way  down  the  lake, 
the  cheerful  evening  he  had  spent  in  the  mt- ;s-room-, 
and  the  hopeful  conversation  concerning  the  "ettle 
ment  soon  to  be  made  near  the  sturdy  lit;  6  post. 
Now  all  that  remained  were  great  heaps  of  ash<;3  and 
half -burned  logs,  gaunt  chimneys,  ad  a  score  of  bodies, 
stripped,  mutilated,  and  deco:iijjosed  beyond  recog- 
nition. The  presence  of  these,  and  the  fact  that  all 
of  them  were  scalped,  showerl  the  destruction  of  the 
post  to  be  the  work  of  savages  and  not  the  voluntary 
act  of  its  garrison ;  otherwise  Donald  might  have  hoped 
that  the  place  had  been  abandoned  and  a  retreat  made 
to  some  stronger  position. 
»  161 


It.'      i 
1       I 


Ml 


■rM 


-Hi 


III 


162 


AT  WAU   WITH  PONTIAC 


Not  only  was  the  story  of  the  tragedy  plainly  to 
be  read  in  the  route  evidences  abounding  on  all  sides, 
but  the  young  woodsman  was  able  to  determine  from 
the  drift  of  ashes,  the  indentations  of  raindrops,  and 
other  distinct  signs,  just  how  many  days  had  elapsed 
since  the  king's  flag  last  waved  above  Sandusky.  He 
found  traces  showing  that  Cuyler  with  his  fugitives 
had  been  there  since  the  destruction  of  the  place,  and 
from  his  own  feelings  he  could  readily  imagine  vhat 
theirs  must  have  been. 

These  things  he  learned  as  easily  as  from  a  printed 
page ;  but  with  all  his  art  he  could  gain  no  inkling 
of  the  information  he  most  desired.  Were  his  sister 
and  Madam  Rothsay  among  those  who  had  escaped 
with  Cuyler  ?  In  vain  did  he  scan  the  prints  of  moc- 
casined  r.nd  booted  feet,  that  abounded  among  the 
ruins.     None  was  dainty  enough  to  be  that  of  a  lady. 

While  Donald  was  bending  over  some  footprints 
beside  a  small  field-piece  that,  dismounted  and  rusted, 
lay  half  buried  in  ashes,  a  sudden  whir-r-r  caused  him 
to  spring  back  as  though  he  had  received  an  electric 
shock.  Only  his  quickness  saved  him  from  the  living 
death  held  in  the  fangs  of  a  rattlesnake  that  had  evi- 
dently just  crawled  from  the  black  muzzle  of  the  gun. 
The  sna»>.e  instantly  re-coiled  to  repeat  its  venomous 
stroke,  and  vliough  Donald  could  easily  have  killed 
it  as  i .•-  had  scores  of  its  kind,  the  presence  of  this 
hideous  nd  sole  repres-^ntative  of  life  in  that  place 
gI  the  dt  >d  so  tilled  him  with  horror  that  he  turned 


1  i 


AMID  THE   RUINS  OF  FORT   SANDUSKY 


163 


■  I 

li  1 1 


and  fled  to  his  canoe.  Nor  did  he  pause  in  his  flight 
until  he  had  covered  many  miles  of  water,  and  was 
compelled  to  do  so  by  the  faintness  of  hunger. 

He  had  instinctively  shaped  his  course  to  the  east- 
ward, and  now  reason  decided  him  to  continue  it  in 
that  direction.  It  was  the  only  one  that  Cuyler 
could  have  taken,  and  in  searching  for  his  sister  the 
young  ensign  had  no  other  clue  to  follow  save  that 
afforded  by  the  fugitives. 

Coasting  the  shore  until  he  discovered  the  mouth 
of  a  small  stream,  Donald  forced  his  canoe  up  this 
until  it  was  effectually  concealed  from  the  lake. 
Then  he  made  a  fire  of  dry  wood  that  would  give 
forth  little  smoke,  and  cooked  the  noontide  meal, 
that  was  for  that  day  his  breakfast  as  well.  Before 
it  was  finished  he  had  decided  to  remain  in  his 
present  place  of  concealment  until  nightfall,  in  order 
to  have  the  aid  of  darkness  in  avoiding  such  Indians 
as  might  be  travelling  up  or  down  the  coast.  Hav- 
ing satisfied  his  hunger,  and  extinguished  his  mod- 
est fire,  he  stationed  himself  at  the  foot  of  a  great 
oak  on  the  shore,  where  he  commanded  a  good  view 
of  the  lake  and  was  at  the  same  time  woll  hidden 
from  it.  Here  he  reflected  upon  all  that  had  hap- 
pened, wondered  if  Cuyler  had  reached  Presque  Isle, 
if  so,  whether  Edith  and  Christie  had  met,  and  tried 
to  imagine  the  meeting,  until  at  length  he  fell  asleep 
and  dreamed  that  Presque  Isle  was  destroyed  and 
that  he  was  searching  for  traces  of  Edith  in  its  ashes. 


K 


164 


AT  WAR  WITH  PONTIAC 


When  he  awoke,  the  sound  of  voices  was  in  his 
ears,  and  for  a  moment  it  seemed  as  though  his  wak- 
ing was  but  a  continuation  of  his  dream.  Within  a 
stone's-throw  of  where  he  lay  barely  hidden  by  a 
slight  screen  of  leaves,  a  fleet  of  canoes  was  moving 
to  the  eastward,  the  very  direction  he  must  take  if 
he  adhered  to  his  original  plan.  He  counted  ten, 
twenty,  thirty,  and  believed  that  some  had  already 
passed  when  he  awoke.  They  were  filled  with  war- 
riors, all  armed  and  decked  with  war-paint  of  ver- 
milion and  black.  There  were  a  few  squaws;  but 
no  children,  no  dogs,  and  but  slight  camp  equipage. 
It  was  evidently  a  war-party,  and  a  strong  one. 

Donald  lay  motion  less,  hardly  daring  to  breathe, 
and  watched  them  out  of  sight.  Were  they  in  pur- 
suit of  Cuyler  and  his  handful  of  fugitives?  were 
they  on  their  way  to  attack  Christie  in  his  little 
fort?  or  were  they  in  search  of  him  to  avenge  his 
k  oting  of  the  Wyandot  lodges  ?  This  last  thought 
was  dismissed  as  quickly  as  formed ;  for,  of  coui'se, 
no  party  of  that  size  would  be  in  pursuit  of  an  indi- 
vidual, no  matter  how  important  he  was  or  what  he 
had  done.  No;  they  must  be  bound  for  Presque 
Isle,  with  the  hope  of  picking  up  Cuyler  on  the 
way. 

As  the  youth  was  in  the  very  act  of  rising  to  go 
to  the  beach  for  a  parting  glimpse  of  the  fleet,  a 
movement  on  the  water  warned  him  to  sink  back 
just  in  time  to  escape  the  keen  glances  of  the  occu- 


AMID  THE   RUINS   OF   FORT  SANDUSKY 


166 


pants  of  a  single  canoe,  that  seemed  to  have  been 
left  behind  and  to  be  in  haste  to  overtake  the  main 
body.  Besides  the  four  Indians  who  paddled  it, 
this  canoe  held  a  fifth,  seated  luxuriously  in  an  ob- 
ject so  unusual  and  startling  that  Donald  almost 
uttered  an  exclamation  at  sight  of  it.  "  It  could  not 
be ! "  Donald  rubbed  his  eyes  and  looked  again. 
Yes,  it  was.  There  was  no  mistaking  its  shape  or 
color. 

"  Bullen's  tub,  as  I'm  a  sinner ! "  muttered  the 
young  man,  under  his  breath.  "  If  that  doesn't  beat 
everything!  Where  did  they  get  it?  What  are 
they  going  to  do  with  it  ?  and  what  has  become  of 
its  owner?  Poor  old  chap!  He  can't  possibly  be 
alive,  for  he  would  have  died  rather  than  be  parted 
from  it.  Now,  though,  I  had  better  keep  quiet  for 
awhile  and  see  what  is  coming  next." 

Although  it  lacked  two  hours  of  sunset,  and 
Donald  maintained  his  lonely  watch  until  then, 
nothing  more  came  in  sight.  He  prepared  another 
meal  to  strengthen  him  for  a  night  of  toil,  and  as 
soon  as  darkness  had  set  in,  made  a  start.  Keeping 
so  far  out  on  the  lake  that  the  shore  was  but  a  d'm 
line,  he  urged  the  canoe  forward  with  his  utmost 
strength  through  the  solemn  stillness  of  the  long 
hours.  He  did  not  venture  near  shore  until  the 
eastern  sky  was  paling  with  approaching  dawn. 
Then,  though  he  sought  anxiously  for  some  friendly 
stream  in  which  to  conceal  his  canoe,  he  failed  to 


K* 


I! 


"f  ^ 


160 


AT    WAR    WITH   PONTIAC 


F 


n 


u 


find  one  before  the  growing  light  warned  him  that  it 
was  no  longer  safe  to  remain  on  the  water.  He  was 
thus  forced  to  land  on  the  open  beach,  and  with 
great  labor  drag  his  craft  up  a  steep  bank  to  a 
hiding-place  in  the  forest  beyond.  After  that,  with 
infinite  pain,  and  moving  backward  as  his  work 
progressed,  he  carefully  obliterated  all  traces  of  his 
landing  by  sweeping  them  with  a  bunch  of  twigs. 

While  certain  that  he  must  have  passed  the  Indian 
fleet  during  the  night,  and  that  it  would  in  turn  pass 
him  before  the  day  was  ended,  he  was  compelled 
by  utter  weariness  to  sleep,  which  he  did  in  a  dense 
thicket  at  some  distance  from  where  he  had  hidden 
the  canoe.  When  he  awoke,  it  was  so  late  in  the  day 
that  he  feared  the  savages  had  gone  by,  but  after  a 
while  he  again  heard  their  voices,  and  peering  from 
his  covert  again  saw  the  entire  fleet  sweep  past. 
This  time  he  counted  its  occupants  as  well  as  he 
could,  and  discovered  that  the  war-party  numbered 
something  over  two  i  andred  members.  On  this 
occasion  the  canoe  containing  the  paymaster's  tub 
was  in  the  foremost  rank,  and  there  were  no 
stragglers. 

It  was  a  great  relief  to  the  anxious  watclier  to 
catch  this  glimpse  of  the  enemy  and  thus  gain  an 
approximate  knowledge  of  their  whereabouts,  and 
after  they  had  disappeared  he  felt  at  liberty  to 
attend  to  his  own  wants  by  cooking  a  supply  of 
provisions  for  future  use. 


K 


AMID  THE  RUINS  OF  FORT  SANDUSKY 


107 


For  two  more  nights  and  days  was  this  strange 
and  perilous  journey  continued,  until  at  dayliglit  of 
the  tliird  day  Donald  felt  that  he  must  be  within 
a  few  miles  of  l*resnue  Isle.  The  most  critical 
momeiit  of  his  undertaking  had  now  arrived.  In 
spite  of  the  rising  sun  he  must  push  on,  for  he  was 
determined  to  reach  the  fort  if  possible  before  the 
Indians,  and  warn  Christie  of  their  coming.  At  the 
same  time  he  realized  that,  as  they  had  been  able  to 
travel  much  faster  than  he  in  his  big  canoe,  he  could 
not  be  much  if  any  past  their  camp  of  the  night  just 
ended.  Nor  did  he  dare  keep  far  out  in  the  lake,  for 
fear  lest  they  cut  him  off  from  the  shore  and  so  hold 
him  at  their  mercy. 

Wearied  with  his  night's  work,  compelled  to  keep 
on,  not  daring  to  land,  and  expecting  each  moment 
to  hear  the  exulting  yell  or  crack  of  a  rifle  that 
should  announce  his  discovery,  Donald  was  thus 
obliged  to  paddle  doggedly  forward  within  a  hundred 
yards  of  the  shore.  His  suspense  was  well-nigh 
unbearable.  Every  nerve  was  strung  to  its  utmost 
tension.  In  each  new  indentation  of  the  coast  he 
expected  to  see  the  waiting  fleet  of  canoes,  and  with 
each  fearful  backward  glance  he  wondered  at  not 
finding  them  in  pursuit. 

At  length,  as  he  rounded  a  point,  he  thought  he 
saw  far  down  the  lake,  against  the  blue  of  the  sky 
and  above  the  sombre  forest,  a  flutter  of  red.  At  the 
same  moment  he  glanced  behind  him  to  see  if  he 


t  I 


i 


I'll 

M 


^, 


^9^^- 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


fe 


<>.**!^ 


K^ 


^0 


1.0 


I.I 


11.25 


Ui|28    12.5 
■tt  Uii   12.2 


^   |£o    12.0 


HI' 


6" 


^ 


^ 


/ 


Hjotographic 

Sciences 
CorpGration 


33  WIST  MAIN  STRUT 

VVIBSTM.N.Y.  14SM 

(716)  •72-4503 


>:V^ 


168 


AT  W\R   WITH   rONTIAC 


were  still  free  from  pursuit.  Alas!  He  was  not. 
Two  canoes,  each  urged  by  half  a  dozen  gleaming 
paddles,  were  following  as  swiftly  and  silently  as 
sharks  that  had  scented  blood,  and  they  were  not  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  away.  As  their  occupants  noted 
that  they  were  discovered  they  uttered  yells  of  exul- 
tation that  chilled  the  poor  lad's  blood  in  his  veins 
and  caused  him  to  feel  faint  with  a  despairing  terror. 


\ 


CHAPTER   XXIII 

DISCOVERED   AND   PURSUED  BY   SAVAGES 

It  was  only  for  a  moment  that  Donald  was  over- 
come by  the  chill  despair  that,  in  presence  of  an 
imminent  and  overwhelming  danger,  often  paralyzes 
the  most  resolute.  Then  it  passed  as  suddenly  as 
it  had  come.  The  hot  blood  surged  through  his 
veins,  his  heart  was  filled  with  a  fierce  joy  at  the 
prospect  of  contest,  and,  under  the  vigoio'i.s  impulse 
of  his  stout  young  arms,  the  canoe  bounded  forward 
as  though  it  were  animate  and  shared  his  feelings. 
Perhaps  it  was  all  owing  to  the  fact  that,  having 
rounded  the  point,  the  pursuing  savages  were  mo- 
mentarily lost  to  view,  and  their  yells  no  longer 
rang  in  his  ears.  At  any  rate,  the  sudden  terror 
was  conquered,  as  it  always  is  by  brave  men,  though 
with  cowards  it  stays  to  the  end. 

Donald  headed  straight  for  the  beach,  gained  it, 
hastily  dragged  his  canoe  behind  some  bushes,  and, 
seizing  only  his  rifle,  plunged  into  the  forest.  He 
reflected  thiit  it  must  be  some  minutes  before  his 
pursuers  could  strike  his  trail ;  and,  with  that  advan- 
tage of  time,  he  surely  ought  to  reach  the  fort  in 
advance  of  them.     So,  while  he  ran  at  a  great  speed, 

169 


^   ''I 
>    I  I 


:li 


170 


AT   WAR    WITH  PONTIAC 


he  still  saved  his  strength,  and  by  no  means  did  his 
best.     This  he  reserved  for  a  later  emergency. 

He  had  hardly  got  under  way  when  the  spiteful 
crack  of  a  rifle  rang  out  from  the  forest  directly 
in  front  of  him.  Almost  at  the  same  instant  he 
threw  up  his  arms,  staggered  forward,  and  fell.  As 
he  did  so,  a  painted  savage  leaped  from  behind  a 
tree  and  raised  a  hand  to  his  mouth  to  produce  the 
quavering  of  a  triumphant  war-whoop.  With  its 
first  shrill  note  a  second  rifle  uttered  its  deadly 
summons ;  the  exulting  Indian  leaped  high,  and  fell, 
pierced  by  Donald's  bullet.  Then  the  latter  arose, 
hastily  reloaded,  and,  with  only  a  contemptuous 
glance  at  the  dead  foe  who  had  been  so  easily  be- 
guiled, sped  on  his  way.  There  might  be  other 
Indians  in  his  path;  but  if  they  were  all  as  simple 
as  that  fellow,  he  should  not  mind  them. 

The  young  woodsman  had  not  been  harmed  nor 
even  grazed  by  his  adversary's  bullet,  and  unex- 
pected as  it  was,  he  had  been  quick-witted  enough 
to  put  into  practice  one  of  Truman  Flagg's  long-ago 
lessons.  Often,  when  he  was  a  child,  playing  in  the 
edge  of  the  woods  near  Tawtry  House,  had  he  flung 
up  his  little  arms  and  dropped  in  that  very  manner,  at 
the  sound  of  an  unexpected  shot,  fired  into  the  air, 
from  the  old  scout's  rifle.  Thus,  though  he  had  never 
before  been  obliged  to  resort  to  it  for  self-preserva- 
tion, the  action  now  came  to  him  as  naturally  as 
breathing. 


DISCOVERED  AND   PURSUED   BY   SAVAGES       171 


Now,  as  he  sped  forward,  his  pace  was  accelerated 
by  a  series  of  yells  that  announced  the  landing,  and 
discovery  of  his  trail  by  the  pursuers  whom  he  had 
first  seen.  Then,  though  an  unbroken  silence  reigned 
in  the  pleasant  forest  glades,  he  knew  that  swift 
runners  were  on  his  track  and  that  the  time  had 
come  for  his  utmost  exertions. 

Mile  after  mile  he  ran  until  he  had  covered  a 
goodly  number  before  his  strength  began  to  fail.  At 
length  he  was  panting  so  that  each  hissing  breath 
was  a  stab,  and  his  eyesight  grew  dim.  He  plunged, 
almost  headlong,  down  the  precipitous  side  of  a 
ravine  and  at  its  bottom,  fell,  face  downward,  into 
the  cool  waters  of  a  rippling  brook.  How  deli- 
ciously  refreshing  were  the  two  or  three  great  gulps 
that  he  swallowed.  How  the  life-giving  fluid  thrilled 
his  whole  frame !  If  he  could  only  lie  there  as  long 
as  he  chose  and  drink  his  fill !  But  he  could  not ; 
two  magic  words  rang  like  bells  in  his  ears,  "Edith" 
and  "Christie."  For  his  own  life  alone  he  would 
hardly  have  prolonged  this  terrible  race  with  death ; 
but  for  theirs  he  must  run  while  he  had  strength  to 
stand.  So,  almost  as  he  fell,  he  was  again  on  his 
feet  and  scrambling  up  the  steep  opposite  side  of 
the  ravine. 

As  he  gained  its  crest,  a  rattling  sound  caused  him 
to  look  back  —  the  foremost  of  his  pursuers  was 
leaping  down  the  farther  side.  How  fresh  and 
powerful  he  looked  —  within  two  minutes  he  would 


I'f 

t 


i 


?; 


I 


172 


AT    WAK    WITH    I'ONTIAC 


II 


overtake  him.  Would  lie  ?  Editli  luid  Christie  !  The 
crack  of  a  HHe,  the  liiss  of  a  bullet,  and  the  powerful 
Indian  lay  quietly  ])eside  the  little  stream  as  though 
resting  after  his  long  run.  Donald  had  no  time  for 
reloading,  and  flinging  away  his  gun,  he  again  sprang 
forward. 

There  was  a  ringing  in  his  ears ;  but  through  it  he 
heard  the  howls  of  rage  that  announced  the  discovery 
of  the  silent  '^ne  lying  by  the  little  stream,  and  knew 
that  a  desire  for  vengeance  would  add  swiftness  to 
the  feet  of  his  pursuers.  Ilis  own  seemed  weighted 
with  lead,  and  he  felt  that  he  was  crawling;  but 
though  he  could  not  realize  it  he  was  still  running 
splendidly,  and  with  almost  undiminished  speed. 

As  he  leaped,  crashing  through  the  underbrush,  he 
was  mistaken  for  a  deer,  and  only  the  quick  eye  of  a 
hunter  who  was  already  raising  his  rifle  for  a  shot 
saved  him  from  death  at  the  hands  of  those  whom  he 
would  warn  of  their  peril. 

"  Halt !  who  comes  ?  "  rang  out  in  crisp  tones  from 
him  who  still  presented  his  rifle  hesitatingly,  as  he 
detected  the  Indian  costume  of  the  advancing 
runner. 

"  Friend !  The  enemy !  Oh,  Christie  !  "  gasped  the 
fugitive  as  he  staggered  into  the  arms  of  the  young 
commandant  at  Fort  Presque   Isle. 

"  By  Heavens !  It  is  Donald  Hester,"  he  cried  in 
terror,  "and  I  came  near  shooting  him  for  a  deer! 
Thank  God !  Thank  God  that  my  hand  was  stayed ! 


■. 


DONALU  AND  HiS   TWO  COMl'AMONS  AKJi  I'L'KbUKD   liY  INDIANS. 


I 


DISCOVERED   AND  PURSUED  BY   SAVAGES       173 

Why,  lad,  what  is  it?     You  are  near  dead  with  run- 
ning ;  what  danger  threatens  ?  " 

**Fly,  Christie,  fly,'*  panted  Donald.  "The  savages 
are  in  hot  pursuit." 

"And  leave  you,  lad?  Not  while  I  have  breath  in 
my  body  and  a  rifle  in  my  hand.  Rest  a  minute 
and  recover  your  breath  while  we  welcome  those 
who  follow  you  so  hotly.  Martin,  get  behind  yon 
tree  while  I  hold  this  one.  Take  you  the  tii*st  red- 
skin who  appears,  and  I  will  deal  with  the  second. 
That  will  at  least  serve  to  check  them  while  we  can 
reload.     Steady !  here  they  come." 

It  was  fortunate  indeed  for  Donald  that  his  friend, 
seized  with  a  longing  for  fresh  venison,  had  chosen 
that  morning  for  a  hunt,  and,  taking  a  man  with 
him,  had  entered  the  forest.  They  were  not  yet  a 
half-mile  from  the  fort  when  they  met  the  exhausted 
fugitive  as  described.  Now  their  rifles  blazed  at 
other  game  than  deer,  and,  as  Christie  had  predicted, 
the  pureuit  was  checked;  for  only  two  had  followed 
thus  far,  though  within  a  mile  scores  of  others  were 
ranging  the  forest. 

The  two  men  instantly  reloaded  and,  without  ex- 
posing themselves  beyond  the  sheltering  tree  trunks, 
waited  a  full  minute  without  detecting  further  move- 
ment or  sound.  Then  Donald  begged  them  to  retreat 
while  there  was  yet  time,  and  the  three  set  forth  for 
the  fort. 

As  they  ran,  each   of  the   others   passed  an  arm 


III 


•  I 


i^i 


li 


174 


AT   WAR   WITH   PONTIAC 


through  one  of  Donald's,  and  the  woods  being  open, 
they  were  able  tlius  to  make  good  speed.  Even  as 
they  went,  Donald  could  not  repress  the  one  eager 
inquiry  that,  in  spite  of  all  distractions,  was  ever 
uppermost  in  his  thoughts. 

"  Edith.     Is  she  safe,  Christie  ?  " 

"My  poor  fellow,  I  know  nothing  concerning  her. 
I  hoped  you  had  news." 

"  Has  Cuyler  reached  the  fort?  " 

"  Yes  ;  and  lei't  two  days  since  for  Niagara." 

"  And  Edith  was  not  with  him  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  He  knew  nothing  of  her  fate  ?  " 

"  Nothing." 

Donald  said  no  more ;  but  his  form  as  supported 
by  the  two  men  became  noticeably  heavier,  as  though 
it  had  been  suddenly  deprived  of  some  upbearing  and 
stimulating  force. 

As  the  three  dashed  into  the  little  post,  which  was 
only  garrisoned  by  a  score  of  troops,  they  were  none 
too  soon ;  for,  almost  at  the  same  moment,  a  rattling 
volley  and  fierce  yelling  gave  notice  that  the  siege 
of  Presque  Isle  was  begun.  But  the  garrison  was 
not  taken  by  surprise,  for  the  shots  from  the  forest 
had  been  heard,  and  half  a  dozen  soldiers  had  run 
out  to  protect  the  retreat  of  the  fugitives. 

Christie's  first  attention  was  given  to  the  friend 
whose  coming  had  not  only  placed  the  garrison  on 
guard,  but  had  saved  him  from  being  cut  off,  as  he 


DISCOVKRED   aND   PURSUKI)    BV   SAVAiiKS       175 


certainly  would  have  Inieii  had  not  his  hunting  been 
interrupted.  So  he  led  Donald  to  liis  own  (inavtei*s, 
showed  him  where  to  tind  food  and  drink,  and  then 
left  him  to  recover  his  strength. 

The  so-called  fort  of  Prescjue  Isle  was  but  a  col- 
lection of  a  dozen  low  wooden  buildings  ranged 
about  a  parade  ground,  in  which  was  the  single  well 
of  the  place.  It  was  unprotected  by  palisades  or 
walls  of  any  kind ;  but  was  provided  with  a  citadel  in 
shape  of  a  stout  blockhouse  that  stood  at  one  angle  of 
the  fort  and  was  separated  by  a  few  yards  of  open 
space  from  the  quarter  of  the  commanding  oUicer. 

The  location  of  the  post  was  unfortunate,  from  a 
military  point  of  view,  in  that  it  occupied  a  small, 
open  flat,  commanded  on  one  side  by  the  beach  ridge 
of  the  lake,  and  on  another  by  the  equally  liigh  bank 
of  a  stream  that  entered  the  lake  at  a  right  angle. 

The  first  fire  of  the  enemy,  who  had  fully  expected 
to  surprise  the  place  and  effect  its  capture  as  a  mere 
incident  in  their  pursuit  of  Cuyler,  was  delivered 
from  the  beach  ridge  and  was  harmless.  A  few 
minutes  later,  however,  there  came  a  scathing  cross- 
fire from  the  high  creek-bank  on  the  other  side.  By 
tMs,  one  man  who  was  crossing  the  parade  was  killed 
and  several  were  wounded.  A  little  later  tongues  of 
flame  appeared  on  the  bark-covered  roof  of  a  build- 
ing, and  it  was  evident  that  no  place  of  safety  ex- 
isted outside  the  blockhouse.  To  this,  then,  Christie 
ordered  the  immediate  retreat  of  his  entire  force. 


I 


176 


AT   WAH    WITH   I'ONTIAC 


I 


Already  were  tho  rifles  of  sevtMal  picked  marks- 
men blazing  from  the  upper  story  of  this  stronghold, 
and  the  rest  of  the  garrison,  by  running  close  along 
the  sheltering  walls  of  the  other  buildings,  gained  in 
safety  the  protcvition  oi  its  stout  logs. 

"  Sorry  not  to  give  you  a  little  longer  breathing 
spell,  old  man,*'  said  Ensign  Christie  to  Donald,  as 
he  entered  his  own  quarters  for  the  last  time ;  "  but 
those  chaps  out  there  are  so  inconsiderate  in  their 
shooting  that  it  has  become  necessary  for  us  to 
move.  So  if  you  will  just  step  over  to  the  castle, 
we  will  try  to  entertain  you  there,  and  can  at  least 
promise  you  plenty  of  occupation." 

"  All  right,"  replied  Donald,  "  Vm  ready,  and 
nearly  as  fit  as  ever;  but  have  you  any  hope  of 
beating  them  off  eventually,  Christie?  If  not,  I 
want  to  make  a  break  for  the  woods  as  soon  as  it 
comes  dark.  I  must  get  back  up  the  lake,  for  I  am 
not  yet  prepared  to  give  up  tlie  search  for  my  sister 
Edith." 

"  Nor  shall  you,  my  dear  fellow,  and  I  would  join 
you  in  it  with  all  my  heart  if  it  were  not  for  my 
duty  here,"  replied  the  other,  earnestly.  "  At  pres- 
ent, though,  it  would  be  more  than  folly  to  attempt 
an  escape  from  this  place,  and  our  only  hope  is  to 
hold  out  until  Wilkins  sends  the  reinforcements  for 
which  I  have  applied  through  Cuyler." 

"  Is  there  any  chance  of  doing  it  y  " 


.DISCOVERED  AND   PURSUED   BY   SAVAOKS       177 

"  There  is  every  chance  for  us  to  do  our  best  in 
trying." 

A  minute  later  the  two  young  men  had  passed 
into  the  blockhouse,  its  heavy  oaken  door  was 
slammed  and  barred  behind  them,  and  the  defence 
of  the  little  wilderness  stronghold  was  begun. 


'  li 


k 


CHAPTER  XXIV 


I 


CHRISTIE  S    BRAVE  DEFENCE    OP    HIS  POST 

Twenty  men,  with  scanty  supplies  of  everything, 
shut  up  in  a  tiny  castle  of  logs,  and  fighting  against 
two  hundred,  who  were  well  armed,  well  provisioned, 
and  protected  by  natural  earthworks,  not  over  forty 
yards  distant.  Donald's  heart  grew  heavy  as  he 
realized  the  situation;  but  with  Christie's  cheery 
voice  in  his  ears  he  could  do  naught  save  follow  so 
brave  an  example  and  set  to  work  with  a  will.  There 
was  plenty  to  be  done  in  that  hot  little  enclosure, 
already  filling  with  smoke,  and  only  lighted  by 
narrow  loop-holes  pierced  in  the  thick  walls.  The 
fire  of  the  enemy  was  chiefly  directed  at  tliese,  which 
rendered  the  task  of  watching  from  them  most  danger- 
ous. Still,  it  must  be  done,  for  many  of  the  Indians 
were  brave  enough  to  dash  across  the  open  with  blaz- 
ing firebrands  in  hand,  and  these  must  be  stopp  k1 
at  ail  costs.  Half  a  dozen  were  killed  in  this 
attempt  before  it  was  abandoned,  and  the  efforts  to 
set  the  blockhouse  on  fire  were  continued  by  another 
and  most  ingenious  device. 

This  was  the  chrow-stick,  or  fire-bow,  which  they 
soon  began  to  work  \vith  serious  effect  from  behind 

178 


<* 


CHRISTIE'S  BRAVE   DEFENCE  OF  HIS   POST      179 


their  breastworks,  which  they  had  strengthened  by 
rolling  logs  to  the  top  of  the  banks.  The  fire-bow 
was  a  stout  bar  of  ash,  hickory,  or  other  pliant 
wood,  one  end  of  which  was  firmly  set  in  the  earth. 
In  the  other  was  hollowed  a  shallow  cavity,  and  just 
beneath  was  attached  a  stout  thong,  by  which  the 
bow  could  be  drawn  back.  A  ball  of  tow,  or  other 
inflammable  material,  wound  about  a  small  stone  to 
give  it  weight,  was  saturated  with  pitch.  The 
upper  end  of  the  bow  was  drawn  back,  a  fire  ball 
placed  in  the  cavity  and  lighted,  the  thong  released, 
and  the  blazing  missile  projected  with  the  force  and 
accuracy  of  an  arrow  against  the  devoted  building,. 

Again  and  again  its  walls  caught  fire,  but  each 
blaze  was  extinguished  by  the  activity  of  the  garri- 
son as  soon  as  discovered. 

Fire-arrows,  shot  into  the  air,  fell  on  the  dry 
shingles  of  the  roof,  and  hardly  a  minute  passed 
that  r.  tiny  blaze  did  not  spring  from  one  part  or 
another  of  it.  The  roof  could  be  gained  from  the 
interior,  through  an  opening  protected  on  two  sides 
by  a  barricade  of  plank,  ami  here  Donald  was  sta- 
tioned, at  his  own  request. 

From  this  elevated  position  he  soon  discovered  a 
new  danger,  and  one  that  he  liad  never  before  heard 
of  in  Indian  warfare.  He  could  see  quantities  of 
earth  and  stones  being  thrown  out  behind  one  of  the 
breastworks,  and  became  convinced  that  the  enemy 
were   excavating  a  subterranean  passage,  or  mine. 


Is! 


'  Ni 


180 


AT  WAR   WITH  PONTIAC 


toward  the  blockhouse.  So  well  did  the  young 
soldier  realize  the  terrible  menace  of  this  new 
danger,  against  which  no  defence  could  be  made, 
that  he  dared  not  announce  it  to  the  troops  for  fear 
of  disheartening  them.  So,  deserting  his  post  for 
a  moment,  he  hastened  to  report  it  in  person  to 
Christie. 

Ere  the  latter  had  time  to  consider  this  peril,  an- 
other equally  grave  and  more  imminent  confronted 
him.  The  water  barrels  were  nearly  empty,  and  the 
roof  was  again  on  fire.  Donald  rushed  back  to  his 
post,  while  Christie  ordered  two  men  to  follow  him 
to  the  lower  story.  He  knew  t^hat  without  water  all 
hope  of  resistance  must  quickly  disappear.  Certain 
depth  awaited  him  who  should  attempt  to  reach  the 
well  in  the  parade  ground.     There  was  no  other. 

"So, "said  Christie,  with  a  calm  cheerfulness,  "we 
must  needs  dig  one  nearer  at  hand.  '*  With  this,  he 
and  his  two  men  set  to  work  tearing  up  the  floor  of 
the  lower  story,  and,  seizing  a  spade,  the  commander 
himself  began  flinging  out  the  earth  beneath  it. 

Inspired  by  this  example,  his  men  worked  with  a 
will  at  this  cheerless  task,  and  in  spit«  of  darkness,, 
heat,  thirst,  and  the  suffocating  atmosphere,  never 
was  a  well  s  ank  more  quickly.  At  the  same  time  it 
was  not  half  completed  when  so  serious  a  fire  broke 
out  on  the  roof  that  the  entire  remaining  stock  of 
v^'ater  was  exhausted  in  extinguishing  it. 

An  hour  later  the  roof  was  again  in  a  blaze ;  but 


CHRISTIE'S   BRAVE   DEFENCE   OF   HIS  POST     181 


Donald  caused  himself  to  be  lowered  by  a  rope,  and 
amid  a  shower  of  bullets  tore  away  the  flaming 
shingles  with  his  bare  hands.  Thus  was  the  danger 
once  more  averted. 

By  this  time  the  day  was  well  spent.  Several  of 
the  garrison  had  been  killed,  and  a  number  were 
wounded.  These  last  called  piteously  for  water, 
and  gazed  with  longing  eyes  at  the  limitless  expanse 
of  the  lake,  so  near  at  hand  and  yet  so  hopelessly 
remote.  By  sunset  the  well-diggei*s  were  in  moist 
earth,  before  nine  o'clock  the  wounded  were  eagerly 
quaffing  a  muddy  liquid  that  gave  them  new  life, 
and  by  midnighv  two  feet  of  water  stood  in  the  well. 

During  the  night,  although  the  enemy's  fire  was 
slackened,  it  never  entirelv  ceased.  Balls  of  blaz- 
ing  pitch  were  discharged  at  frequent  intervals,  and 
no  moment  of  rest  was  allowed  the  weary  garrison. 
At  daybreak,  exulting  cries  from  the  rear,  and  a 
ruddj^  glow,  announced  some  new  cause  for  anxiety. 
In  a  few  minutes  the  worst  was  known.  The  under- 
ground approach  had  been  advanced  as  far  as  Chris- 
tie's quarters,  which  were  immediately  set  on  fire. 
Only  a  narrow  space  separated  this  building  from 
the  blockhouse,  and  with  the  fierce  blaze  of  its  pine 
logs  the  stifling  heat  in  the  latter  became  almost 
unsupportable.  It  seemed  to  the  men  that  the  time 
to  yield  had  come ;  but  their  commander  was  not  yet 
ready  to  acknowledge  the  situation  as  hopeless. 
Even  when  the  scorched  and  smoking  walls  of  their 


'I! 


■:i 


•I 


182 


AT  WAR   WITH  PONTIAC 


prison  house  burst  into  flame,  he  only  bade  them 
work  the  harder,  and  inspired  them  by  his  own  hero- 
Thanks  to  the  new  well,  they  succeeded   in 


ism. 


holding  the  flames  in  check  until  the  blazing  build- 
ing that  had  threatened  them  finally  sank  into  a  mass 
of  glowing  embers,  and  their  little  fortress  still  stood 
intact. 

With  the  reaction  following  this  supreme  effort, 
many  of  the  men  again  gave  way  to  despair.  All 
were  sickened  by  the  great  heat,  the  stifling  smoke, 
and  the  exhaustion  of  twenty- four  hours  of  continu- 
ous fighting.  Donald  held  to  his  strength  better 
than  any,  because  from  his  perilous  position  on  the 
roof  he  could  at  least  breathe  pure  air ;  while  Chris- 
tie, who  fought  beside  his  men,  was  so  upheld  by 
his  indomitable  will  that  he  would  not  acknowledge 
fatigue. 

So  the  defence  was  maintained,  until  the  second 
day  of  incessant  toil,  fighting,  and  hoping  against 
hope  for  relief,  dragged  out  its  weary  length,  and 
darkness  once  more  brooded  over  Presque  Tsle. 
From  behind  the  breastworks  rifles  flashed  inces- 
santly until  midnight,  when  the  firing  ceased,  and 
from  out  of  the  darkness  a  voice  hailed  the  fort  in 
English. 

"  What  is  wanted  ?  "  demanded  Christie. 

"You  are  called  upon  to  surrender,"  answered  the 
voice,  "since  further  resistance  is  useless.'* 

"And  if  I  refuse?" 


CHRISTIE'S  BRAVE   DEFENCE   OF   HIS  POST      183 


"Then  you  will  shortly  be  blown  into  eternity. 
Your  fort  is  undermined,  and  a  great  store  of  powder 
is  already  in  position  to  blow  it  up.  If  you  surren- 
der, your  lives  shall  be  spared." 

"Ask  them  to  wait  until  morning  for  your  an- 
swer," suggested  Donald,  in  a  low  tone.  "I  have  a 
particular  reason  for  the  request." 

Christie  agreed  to  this,  and  the  proposition  was 
submitted. 

There  was  a  long  pause,  and  an  evident  discus- 
sion, before  the  voice  answered :  — 

"  The  beggars  will  only  grant  that  request  on  one 
condition." 

"Name  it." 

"  It  is  that  neither  you  nor  those  under  your  com- 
mand shall  make  any  attempt  to  escape  during  the 
time  of  truce." 

"Am  I  under  your  command,  Christie?"  asked 
Donald. 

"Certainly  not,"  was  the  answer. 

"All  right.  I  only  wanted  to  be  sure  that  the 
condition  wouldn't  bind  me." 

"Well,"  cried  the  voice,  impatiently,  "do  you 
agree  ?  " 

"I  agree,"  replied  Christie,  "and  by  sunrise  will 
have  ready  my  final  answer." 

In  the  profound  and  grateful  quiet  thnt  followed 
the  cessation  of  firing,  most  of  the  exhausted  garri- 
son flung  themselves  down  where  they  stood,  and 


i 


N 


184 


AT   WAR    WITH  PONTIAC 


n 


a 


u 


were  instantly  buried  in  slumber.  Donald  and 
Christie  sought  food,  and  while  they  ate  discussed 
the  situation. 

"  You  have  splendidly  defended  your  post,  Chris- 
tie, but  you  have  come  to  the  end  of  your  resources," 
said  the  former.  "  You  could  not  hold  out  for  an- 
other day,  ev^en  if  what  that  fellow  said  about?  the 
mine  should  prove  false.'* 

"No,    I  suppose   not,"   replied  the   young  com- 
mander, sadly.     "My  poor  lads  are  nearly  used  up." 
Then  you  will  surrender?" 
I  suppose  so." 

In  that  case,  they  will  probably  spare  your  lives, 
at  least  until  they  get  you  to  the  Indian  villages  near 
Detroit." 

"  They  may  do  so. " 

"But  you  will  be  prisoners,  and  that  is  what  I 
cannot  afford  to  become.  I  must  retain  my  freedom, 
if  it  lies  within  my  power  to  do  so,  until  I  have 
found  Edith,  or  discovered  her  fate." 

"  What  do  you  propose  to  do?"  inquired  Christie, 
starting  from  his  despondent  attitude. 

"  I  mean  to  leave  this  place  within  an  hour  and 
take  to  the  woods." 

"But  —  " 

"  There  are  no  buts,  my  dear  fellow.  I  am  deter- 
mined to  make  the  attempt.  You  have  acknowledged 
that  I  am  not  under  your  command,  and  so  am  not 
held  by  the  cc  dition  just  imposed.     I  hate  to  leave 


f  ' 


CHRISTIE'S   BRAVE   DEFENCE   OF   HIS   POST      186 

you,  and  would  a  thousand  times  rather  stand  hy  you 
and  share  your  fate,  whatever  it  may  be;  but  my 
duty  seems  to  lie  so  plainly  in  another  direction 
that  I  must  go." 

"You  are  right,  Hester,"  assented  Christie,  sadly, 
"and  with  all  my  heart  do  I  wish  I  were  free  to 
share  your  mission.  There  is  no  peril,  no  hardship, 
that  I  would  not  gladly  face  in  the  cause  for  which 
you  are  enlisted.  I  tremble,  though,  for  your  safety, 
and  cannot  believe  that  you  will  escape  without 
detection  from  the  savages  who  encircle  us. " 

"I  can  try,"  answered  Donald,  "and  the  cause  is 
certainly  worthy  of  the  effort." 

So  it  was  settled,  and  soon  afterward  the  two 
young  men,  whose  friendship  had  become  like  the 
love  of  brothers,  stood  by  thi  partially  opened  door 
of  the  blockhouse.  The  night  was  of  inky  blackness, 
and  the  silence  was  profound.  Oiily  a  dull  glow 
still  lighted  faintly  the  smouldering  ruins  of  the 
commandant's  quarters.  Donald  held  a  rifle,  and 
bore  with  him  a  stout  knife,  a  small  supply  of  am- 
munition, and  a  little  store  of  food.  No  word  accom- 
panied the  parting.  There  was  but  a  long,  firm  hand 
clasp,  and  then  one  was  gone  as  noiselessly  as  a 
fleeting  shadow,  while  the  other  remained  to  meet 
his  unknown  fate. 


!i! 


CHAPTER   XXV 


T 

! 


DONALD   FIRES   THE  MINE   AND   SAVES    THE  BLOCK- 
HOUSE 

Knowing  the  savage  nature  as  well  as  he  did, 
Donald  believed  that  his  well-loved  friend,  as  well 
as  every  one  of  the  gallant  fellows  under  his  com- 
mand, would  be  put  to  death  in  case  they  surren- 
dered ;  or,  if  they  were  spared  for  the  time  being,  it 
would  only  be  for  torture  in  the  Indian  villages. 
He  was  determined,  therefore,  to  make  an  effort  to 
save  the  111 ;  but  his  half-formed  plan  was  of  such  a 
perilous  nature  that  he  dared  not  confide  it  to  Chris- 
tie, for  he  knew  that  the  latter  would  never  consent 
to  its  being  undertaken.  Once  outside  the  block- 
house, however,  and  lost  to  sight  in  the  darkness,  he 
was  free  to  act  as  he  pleased. 

After  going  a  few  steps  he  paused  to  listen,  but 
no  sound  save  that  of  night-birds  and  the  lapping  of 
little  waves  on  the  lake  shore  came  to  his  ears.  The 
silence  was  profound,  and  assured  him  that  even  the 
savages,  wearied  with  long  fighting,  were  snatching 
a  few  hours  of  sleep.  On  either  side  of  him  lay  the 
still  smoking  ruins  of  the  post,  for  of  all  its  build- 
ings, the  stronghold  of  logs  alone  remained  standing. 

186 


DONALD   SAVES  THE   BLOCKHOUSE 


187 


From  the^e  charred  heaps,  fitful  flames,  fanned 
into  life  by  the  soft  night  breeze,  sprang  up  every 
now  and  then,  casting  fantastic  bits  of  light  and 
shadow  over  the  scene  of  desolation. 

Reassured  by  the  silence,  the  young  soldier  swiftly 
crossed  the  open  space  beyond  which  lay  the  forest, 
and  skirted  the  latter  to  the  lake  shore.  There  he 
hid  his  rifle  and  his  supj  Ues  in  the  hollow  of  a  tree, 
so  that  he  might  have  greater  freedom  of  action. 
Then  he  worked  his  way  cautiously  toward  the  rude 
breastworks  facing  the  blockhouse.  A  small  fire  of 
driftwood  burned  dimly  behind  these,  and  about  it 
sat  several  blanketed  figures.  In  no  other  direc- 
tion was  there  a  sign  of  wakefulness. 

Donald  was  now  crawling  on  hands  and  knees. 
Suddenly  he  encountered  a  figure  lying  prone  in  his 
path,  and  had  touched  it  before  aware  of  its  prox- 
imity. Instantly  he,  too,  lay  flat  on  the  ground, 
and,  with  heavy  breathing,  so  feigned  sleep  that 
the  aroused  savage  was  deceived  into  believing  the 
form  beside  him  to  be  that  of  some  restless  comrade. 
So  he  turned  over  with  a  grunt,  and  again  dozed 
into  unconsciousness. 

After  a  few  minutes  Donald  ventured  to  move, 
and  then  to  pursue  his  way  with  a  greater  caution 
than  before.  Now  he  passed  other  sleeping  forms, 
and  even  stepped  over  one  whom  he  could  not  other- 
wise avoid.  Finally,  after  more  than  an  hour  of 
intense  anxiety  and  stealthy  movement,  only  advanc- 


'  I 


u. 


188 


AT   WAR   WITH   J'nNTIAC 


ing  by  inches,  and  with  frequent  motionless  pauses, 
he  discovered  tlie  place  of  which  he  was  in  search. 
It  was  the  mouth  of  the  mine  that  the  Indians  had 
spent  two  days  and  nights  in  excavating.  As  he  had 
conjectured,  it  lay  very  near  the  little  fire  beside 
which  sat  the  drowsy  gujird,  and  not  until  he  was 
well  within  its  profound  shadow  did  he  venture  to 
draw  a  full  breath. 

The  passage  was  very  low,  but  of  sufficient  width 
to  allow  two  persons  to  pass  each  other,  and  after 
penetiating  it  a  short  distance  he  found  that  it  took 
a  turn  to  the  left.  At  this  angle  he  was  perplexed 
by  coming  into  contact  with  fragments  of  charred 
wood.  Wondering  for  what  purpose  these  had  been 
brought  there,  he  still  moved  forward,  determined 
to  discover  whether  or  not  the  statement  concerning 
a  store  of  powder  beneath  the  blockhouse  was  true. 
All  at  once  his  outstretched  hands  came  into  contact 
with  something  that  barred  his  further  progress.  It 
was  hard,  smooth,  and  round.  There  were  other 
similar  objects  above,  below,  and  on  both  sides  of 
it.  They  were  powder  kegs,  five  in  all,  and  of  a  size 
that  should  contain  twenty  pounds.  One  hundred 
pounds  of  powder !  Enough  to  lift  the  little  fortress 
from  its  foundations  and  scatter  its  timbers  far  and 
wide.  The  savages  had  made  no  empty  boast,  and, 
unless  he  could  save  his  recent  companions,  their 
fate  was  surely  sealed. 

What  could  he  do  ?    Time  was  precious,  for  day- 


DONALD   SAVES  THE    BLOCK  IK  )rSE 


180 


S 


\ 


» 


light  could  not  be  far  off.  Beyond  this  point  he  luul 
formed  no  plan.  He  liad  hoped  to  find  lM)th  the 
tunnel  and  its  contents  but  an  ingenious  fiction  to 
frighten  Christie  into  a  surrender.  Now  it  was  a 
startling  and  overwhelming  truth.  He  could  not 
remove  the  powder  by  the  way  he  had  come.  In 
fact,  he  doubted  if  he  could  effect  his  own  escape 
that  way,  so  thickly  were  the  sleeping  savages  dis- 
persed about  the  entrance  to  the  tunnel.  In  this 
predicament,  and  with  the  intensity  of  his  thinking, 
great  beads  of  pei-spiration  started  to  his  forehead, 
and  he  clenched  his  hands  until  they  ached. 

The  mine  was  all  ready  for  firing.  He  knew  this 
by  discovering  that  one  of  the  powder  kegs  was 
open,  and  by  finding  the  end  of  a  rudely  made  fuse 
buried  in  its  contents.  Who  had  taught  the  Indians 
this  diabolical  trick  of  warfare?  Never  before  had 
they  been  known  to  prepare  a  mine.  They  must 
have  been  instructed  by  some  white  man,  and  one 
possessed  of  military  knowledge.  All  at  once  Don- 
ald recalled  the  voice  that  had  demanded  the  surren- 
der of  the  blockhouse.  Certainly,  no  Indian  ever 
spoke  English  like  that.  Had  there  not  been  a 
familiar  ring  to  the  tones?  It  seemed  so  now, 
though  he  had  been  too  intent  on  other  thoughts  to 
notice  it  at  the  time.  Still  he  was  not  sure,  the 
impression  was  too  slight. 

All  these  things  flashed  through  Donald's  mind 
in  a  moment,  while  his  hands  were  feeling  out  the 


leo 


AT   WAR    WITH   PONTIAC 


exact  condition  of  the  mine.  How  long  was  that 
fuse?  He  traced  it  backward  as  its  evil  length 
stretched  along  the  bottom  of  the  tunnel.  It  led  to 
the  angle,  and  there  he  again  encountered  the  frag- 
ments of  burned  wood.  At  one  side  the  tunnel 
widened,  and  here  its  wall  was  entirely  composed  of 
this  material.  Where  could  it  have  come  from?  It 
was  freshly  charied.  The  Indians  would  never  have 
brought  it  there  and  piled  it  in  that  confusion.  It 
must  have  fallen  from  above!  There  must  be  an 
opening  I  If  there  only  was,  he  would  know  just 
v/hat  to  do.  There  would  be  no  difficulty  then  about 
forming  a  plan. 

With  eager  haste  Donald  began  pulling  away  the 
burned  ends  of  timbers  and  logs.  He  had  hardly 
begun  before  the  whole  r  ass  gave  way,  and  slid 
down  on  him.  Fortunately,  there  was  not  much  of 
it,  and,  though  he  was  nearly  smothered  by  dust  and 
ashes,  he  quickly  scrambled  from  the  debris,  and 
listened  with  loudly  beating  heart.  He  realized 
that  he  had  found  an  opening  to  the  surface,  and 
was  wildly  exultant  over  the  discovery,  but  could 
hardly  believe  that  the  noise  of  the  sliding  material, 
which  had  sounded  to  him  like  an  avalanche,  should 
not  have  aroused  the  savages.  So,  for  some  minutes, 
he  listened,  and  then,  reassured  by  the  continued 
silence,  ventured  to  climb  up  to  the  open  air.  He 
had  but  a  few  feet  to  go,  and  once  at  the  surface  in- 
stantly recognized  his  surroundings.     He  was  beside 


) 


DONALD   SAVES   TIIK    BLUCKIIOUSK 


101 


) 


the  ruins  of  Christie's  quarters,  and  just  beyond 
rose  the  black  mass  of  the  blockhouse,  in  which  ho 
had  recently  suffered  so  much. 

But  that  glow  in  the  east,  against  which  it  was 
outlined  so  distinctly!  It  could  not  be  that  the 
night  was  already  gone  and  daylight  ntnir  at  hand. 
Yes,  it  was,  though;  and,  realizing  that  his  working 
time  was  now  limited  to  minutes,  Donald  slid  back 
into  the  tunnel,  and  began  to  carry  the  powder  kegs, 
one  at  a  time,  toward  its  outer  end,  placing  them  as 
near  the  entrance  as  he  dared  venture.  He  was 
forced  to  work  slowly  in  that  confined  space,  as  well 
as  with  the  utmost  caution ;  for,  by  the  rapidly  in- 
creasing light,  he  caught  occasional  glimpses  of  dusky 
forms  passing  and  repassing  the  entrance,  showing 
that  the  enemy  was  already  astir.  He  exi)ected  each 
time  that  he  returned  from  the  further  end  of  the  mine 
to  be  confronted  by  some  burly  savage,  and  became 
so  nervous  at  the  prospect  that  the  utmost  exercise  of 
his  will  power  vras  required  to  enable  him  to  com- 
plete his  task.  At  length  it  was  finished.  All  the 
kegs  were  removed  to  their  new  position  and  piled 
about  the  one  whose  open  head  admitted  the  fuse. 
The  other  end  of  this  reached  half  way  to  the  new 
place  of  exit. 

Almost  breathless  with  nervous  excitement,  he 
knelt  beside  the  farther  end  of  the  fuse,  and  with 
trembling  hands  attempted  to  ignite  it  by  a  spark 
struck  from  flint  and  steel.     Again  and  again  the 


II 


I  ii 


I  • 


I 


(> 


1   ■  I 


t< 


H     I    \&\ 


192 


AT  WAR   WITH  PONTIAC 


spark  flew  aside,  but  at  length  there  came  a  slight 
flash  and  a  spluttering  flame. 

Heavens !  How  fast  that  roughly  made  fuse 
burned!  Almost  like  an  open  train  of  powder. 
Donald  had  hardly  thought  of  his  own  danger;  but 
a  single  glance  at  that  hissing  line  of  Are  caused  him 
to  spring  to  his  place  of  exit.  He  scrambled  through 
it,  and  darted  at  full  speed  across  the  open  toward 
the  forest,  heedless  of  everything  save  a  desire  to 
place  as  great  a  distance  as  possible  between  himself 
and  the  awful  fire  fiend  about  to  leap  forth. 

As  he  reached  the  edge  of  the  woods  and  turned 
to  look,  the  explosion  came.  He  saw  a  sheet  of 
vivid  flame,  that  dimmed  the  brightness  of  the  rising 
sun,  leaping  in  air.  At  the  same  instant,  as  though 
it  had  been  a  thunderbolt  and  hurled  at  him,  he  was 
struck  senseless  by  a  crashing  blow  on  the  head, 
delivered  from  behind. 

The  four  or  five  crouching  figures  that  had  been 
grimly  watching  Donald's  approach,  and  sprang  up 
to  receive  him  as  he  turned  to  look  back,  were  for  a 
moment  petrified  with  fright  at  the  suddenness  and 
violence  of  the  shock.  Then,  moved  by  a  common 
impulse,  and  without  a  word  being  spoken,  they 
lifted  their  unconscious  captive,  ran  with  him  to  the 
lake  shore,  bundled  him  into  a  canoe,  and  pushed  off. 

Upon  the  Indians  behind  the  breastwork,  where 
the  full  force  of  the  explosion  was  felt,  the  effect 
was  so  disastrous  that  the  panic-stricken  survivors 


) 


I 


) 


DONALD   SAVES  THE   BLOCKHOUSE 


m 


rushed  madly  for  their  canoes.  Many  of  these  were 
damaged,  and  some  crushed  beyond  repair,  by  the 
rain  of  logs,  stones,  and  other  missiles  hurled  from 
the  dense  smoke-cloud  that  was  slowly  diifting  to 
leeward  in  fleecy  folds. 

Although  the  blockhouse  was  violently  shaken,  it 
remained  standing,  and,  after  a  moment  of  conster- 
nation, its  garrison  rushed  out  to  hasten  the  flight  of 
their  terrified  foes.  A  few  ran  to  the  breastwork 
on  the  lake  shore,  and  gazed  wonderingly  at  the 
smoking  hole  from  which  the  torrent  of  flame  had 
burst.  The  rest,  headed  by  Christie,  charged  upon 
the  Indians  b(3hind  the  creek  bank,  who,  although 
preparing  for  flight,  were  not  quite  so  bereft  of  their 
senses  as  those  who  had  felt  the  full  shock  of  the 
upheaval.  Some  of  them  even  turned  on  the  whites, 
who  rushed  so  ^  ecklessly  among  them ;  so  that  for  a 
minute  a  fierce  hand-to-hand  fight  raged  on  the 
narrow  strand,  and  even  among  the  crowded  canoes 
in  the  water.  In  the  confusion  of  this  mel^e 
Christie  became  separated  from  his  men,  and  ere 
he  realized  the  full  peril  of  his  position  received 
several  knife  wounds  in  quick  succession.  Stagger- 
ing under  these,  he  fell,  was  instantly  dragged  into 
a  canoe,  and  borne  away. 

It  was  only  after  the  last  of  the  canoes  had  made 
good  its  escape,  leaving  many  dead  savages  behind, 
that  the  little  force  of  breathless  but  exulting  sol- 
diers discovered  their  leader  to  be  missing.     In  vain 


^1 


J 


I'      ' 
It      I 


'^  *l 


:  l\ 


o 


194 


AT   WAR   WITH  PONTIAC 


did  they  search  for  him.  In  vain  did  they  run  along 
the  shore,  firing  ineffectual  shots  at  the  departing 
fleet.  He  was  not  to  be  found,  nor  had  they  any 
knowledge  of  his  fate. 

So  their  jubilation  over  this  wonderful  deliverance 
and  victory  was  turned  into  sorrow,  and  it  was  with 
heavy  hearts  that,  abandoning  the  little  fortress,  they 
set  forth  on  a  retreat  towards  the  Niagara. 


;HSi 


CHAPTER  XXVI 


3!  i 


FRIENDS  IN   CAPTIVITY 

Not  until  the  panic-stricken  savages  had  put 
many  miles  of  water  between  them  and  the  scene 
of  their  recent  discomfiture  did  they  venture  to  land 
and  establish  a  camp  in  which  to  attend  to  their 
wounded,  repair  damaged  canoes,  and  recover  as  far 
as  possible  from  the  disaster  of  the  morning.  Among 
the  first  craft  to  make  a  landing  was  that  in  which 
Donald  Hester,  after  slowly  recovering  conscious- 
ness, had  lain  for  several  hours,  nearly  blinded  with 
a  headache,  so  intense  that  a  band  of  fire  seemed  to 
encircle  his  throbbing  temples,  vaguely  wondering 
what  had  happened  and  where  he  was.  On  reaching 
the  shore,  the  other  occupants  of  the  canoe  disap- 
peared without  paying  any  attention  to  him;  and, 
being  thus  left  to  his  own  devices,  he  proceeded  to 
quench  his  feverish  thirst  as  well  as  bathe  his  aching 
head.  He  wondered  at  finding  blood  clotted  in  his 
hair,  and,  dimly  recalling  the  explosion,  fancied  that 
in  some  way  he  must  have  been  among  its  victims. 
T/V  hile  he  was  thus  engaged,  other  canoes  were  arriv- 
ing and  being  drawn  up  on  the  beach.  Beyond  them 
fires  were  lighted,  and  already  savory  odors  of  cook- 

195 


'I 


-.11 


I       !• 


196 


AT  WAR   WITH  PONTIAC 


ing  reminded  him  how  very  faint  he  was  from 
hunger.  While  considering  how  he  should  procure 
some  of  the  food  that  seemed  so  abundant,  his  gaze 
was  suddenly  arrested  by  the  appearance  of  a  white 
man,  who  was  stepping  feebly  from  one  of  the  latest- 
arrived  canoes.  For  a  moment  Donald  could  hardly 
believe  his  own  eyes.  Then  he  strode  hastily  forward 
with  outstretched  hand. 

"  Christie,  my  dear  fellow !     Is  it  possible  ?  " 

"Donald!  How  came  you  here?"  exclaimed  the 
new  arrival,  his  drawn  face  lighting  with  the  recog- 
nition of  a  dear  friend  amid  so  many  enemies, 

"  But  you  are  wounded ! "  they  both  cried  at 
once. 

"  A  mere  nothing,"  said  Donald. 

"Only  a  few  scratches,"  answered  Christie,  in  a 
careless  tone. 

Each  insisted  on  bathing  and  binding  up,  as  well 
as  circumstances  would  admit,  the  hurts  of  the  other, 
for  which  purpose  they  tore  strips  from  Christie's 
shirt.  Donald  was  relieved  to  find  that  the  knife- 
cuts  from  which  his  friend  was  bleeding  were  only 
flesh  wounds,  and  not  at  all  dangerous ;  while  the 
latter  was  equally  pleased  to  discover  that  the  ugly 
gash  on  Donald's  head  looked  much  more  serious 
than  it  really  was. 

Their  surgical  operations  ended,  the  two  sought 
some  place  where  they  might  rest,  and  learn  from 
each  other  the  causes  of  the  captivity  that  brought 


. 


FRIENDS   IN  CAPTIVITY 


197 


about  such  an  unexpected  meeting.  They  seemed  to 
be  unguarded  and  left  entirely  to  their  own  devices, 
but  the  moment  they  attempted  to  go  beyond  the 
noisy  limits  of  the  camp  they  were  confronted  by  a 
rifle-bearing  young  wariior  who  sternly  motioned 
them  back.  Being  thus  repulsed  several  times,  they 
were  finally  compelled  to  sit  under  a  tree,  well  within 
the  confines  of  the  camp  and  in  view  of  all  its  busy 
occupants.  Here  Christie*  learned  of  Donald's  ad- 
ventures since  their  midnight  parting,  and,  while 
applauding  his  bravery,  chided  him  for  engaging  in 
so  dangerous  an  undertaking. 

"  If  it  had  only  been  wholly  successful,  and  left 
you  at  liberty,"  said  Donald,  "I  should  feel  amply 
repaid." 

"And  so  it  would  have  done,  but  for  my  own 
carelessness,"  replied  Christie,  who  thereupon  gave 
an  account  of  the  explosion,  its  effect  on  the  savages, 
and  the  manner  in  which  he  had  fallen  into  their 
hands,  while  his  men  escaped.  "  I  can't  understand 
that  mine  business,  though,"  he  said,  in  conclusion, 
"  for  I  had  no  idea  Indians  were  up  to  such  things." 

"  Do  you  recall  the  capital  English  of  the  person 
who  demanded  your  surrender  last  night?"  asked 
Donald. 

"  Certainly." 

"  Did  the  voice  sound  at  all  familiar  ?  " 

"  I  can't  say  that  it  did.     Why  ?  " 

"It  was  that  of  an  Englishman,  though?" 


t  ii 


N 


198 


AT   WAR    WITH    I'ONTIAC 


!    ' 


"  I  believe  so.  And  6f  course  it  was  he  who  de- 
vised the  plan  of  the  mine.  He  must  have  been 
some  renegade  British  soldier.  The  scoundrel! 
Would  that  I  had  him  in  my  power  for  just  five 
minutes !  He  must  have  met  his  just  deserts,  though, 
and  fallen  a  victim  to  his  own  diabolical  trap,  thanks 
to  you,  for,  besides  ourselves,  there  is  certainly  no 
white  man  in  this  camp." 

*'  If  that  is  the  case,  and  my  own  surmise  is  a  true 
one,  I  don't  know  whether  I  am  most  glad  or  sorry," 
said  Donald. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  What  is  your  surmise  ?  " 
inquired  Christie,  curiously. 

"  Do  you  remember  that  I  mentioned  seeing  a  cer- 
tain bath-tub  in  one  of  the  canoes  that  brought  this 
war-party?" 

"  Bullen's  ?  Of  course  I  do.  But  you  can't  for  an 
instant  imagine  that  he  had  a  hand  in  this  outrage?" 

"Well,  you  undoubtedly  know  the  paymaster 
better  than  I,  but  I  must  confess  that  I  should  like 
to  meet  him,  and  hear  his  own  account  of  his  move- 
ments during  the  past  ten  days  or  so." 

"That  you  are  not  likely  to  do,  at  least  not  for 
some  time  to  come,  if  ever;  and  in  the  meantime  I 
wish  you  could  dismiss  from  your  mind  every  shadow 
of  such  a  terrible  suspicion  against  a  brother  officer," 
said  Christie,  gravely. 

"  All  right,  my  dear  fellow,  I  will  try  to  do  so  out 
of  admiration  for  your  loyalty  to  our  cloth,  if  for  no 


FRIENDS  IN  CAPTIVITY 


100 


other  reason.  ITow,  to  change  the  subject,  what  do 
you  suppose  is  going  on  over  there?" 

"I  have  been  wondering,"  replied  Christie,  "and 
at  the  same  time  admiring  the  barbaric  gorgeousness 
of  that  central  figure.  He  is  certainly  the  most 
terrific  dandy  in  savage  style  that  ever  I  laid  eyes 
on.  Seems  to  be  in  some  sort  of  a  mess  with  his 
fellow-heathen,  too,  judging  from  his  expression  and 
surroundings.  It  looks  like  some  sort  of  forest 
court-martial:  and,  by  Jove!  I  believe  it  is  one." 

The  scene  thus  referred  to  was  that  of  a  circle  of 
grave  warriors  seated  about  a  small  fire,  and  listening 
to  the  harangue  of  one  who  stood  in  an  open  space 
reserved  for  him  at  one  side.  Beyond  the  circle 
were  gathered  the  younger  men  and  such  squaws  as 
were  free  from  culinary  duties.  The  speaker  was, 
as  Christie  had  remarked,  an  Indian  dandy  of  the 
most  extreme  type,  although  short  in  stature  as 
compared  with  the  long-limbed  warriors  surround- 
ing him.  His  head  was  surmounted  by  a  gaudily 
colored  plume  of  feathers  held  in  place  by  a 
glittering  band  or  tiara  that  encircled  his  brows. 
Secii^ed  about  his  waist  by  a  broad  belt  of  rattlesnake 
skin,  but  falling  back  from  the  upper  part  of  his 
body,  was  a  fine  white  blanket  edged  with  fur  and 
so  elaborately  embroidered  with  beads  and  quills 
that  the  original  fabric  was  almost  concealed.  His 
feet  and  ankles  were  protected  by  moccasins  of 
fawn  skin,  also  beautifully  embroidered.     But  the 


\  m 


'   i 


200 


AT   WAR    WITH   I'ONTIAC 


triumph  of  .*^orest  art,  as  displayed  on  his  person, 
lay  in  the  wonderful  painting  of  his  entire  body, 
which  was  covered  with  intricate  designs  in  tlie  most 
vivid  colors  on  a  background  of  black,  and  the  pris- 
matic effect  was  so  bewilderingly  gorgeous,  that,  as 
Christie  said  to  Donald,  "  it  was  enough  to  mortify  a 
rainbow." 

In  spite  of  his  paint  and  feathers  the  individual 
thus  lavishly  decorated  did  not  seem  happy.  In  fact, 
he  appeared  miserably  nervous  and  apprehensive ;  or, 
as  Christie  remarked,  as  though  he  had  been  condemned 
to  exchange  his  gaudiness  for  something  more  modest, 
like  the  plumage  of  a  peacock,  for  instance.  "  Isn't 
he  lovely,  though?"  continued  the  young  officer. 
"Now  I  know,  what  I  should  never  otherwise  have 
suspected,  that  the  savage  mind  is  capable  of  an 
artistic  expression  more  sublime  than  anything  yet 
conceived  by  civilization." 

"  Yes,"  replied  Donald,  absently,  "  but  there  are 
several  things  about  the  fellow  that  I  don't  under- 
stand. To  begin  with,  he  is  talking  to  those  other 
chaps  through  an  interpreter.  Then  he  does  not 
gesticulate,  while  most  Indian  orators  depend  more 
upon  signs  than  words  for  effect.  He  stands  with 
his  toes  turned  out,  and  his  ears  are  not  cut.  In 
fact,  I  don't  believe  he  is  any  more  an  Indian  than 


am. 


5> 


f 


"  What  do  you   think   he   is  ?  "  inquired  Christie, 
apprehensively. 


FRIENDS   IN  CAPTIVITY 


201 


"  I  don't  know  what  he  is ;  but  I  believe  hirn  to  be 
an  —  a  Frenchman." 

"Oh!  "said  the  other,  in  a  relieved  tone.  "Do 
you  really?  I —  Hello?  what's  thi  t?  BuUen's 
tub  I     By  Jove  !  " 

One  of  the  older  chiefs  had  been  talking  for  a  few 
moments,  and  now,  evidently  by  his  command,  two 
young  men  brought  the  famous  bath-tub  into  the 
circle  and  set  it  dovn  close  beside  the  dandy. 
Another  presented  a  dish  of  water.  The  gorgeous 
individual  shuddered  as  he  took  it,  like  one  show- 
ing the  first  symptoms  of  hydrophobia.  He  looked 
imploringly  about  him,  said  something  which  was 
answered  by  an  angry  exclamation  to  the  effect  that 
the  order  just  given  must  be  obeyed. 

The  man  stooped,  took  something  from  a  compart- 
ment in  the  tub,  with  trembling  hand,  apparently 
dropped  it  into  the  vessel  of  water,  and  lifted  the 
latter  into  plain  view.  In  a  breatMess  silence  all 
eyes  were  turned  toward  it.  For  a  moment  the 
gorgeous  one  held  it  aloft,  and  then,  as  no  result 
followed  his  manipulation,  he  dropped  it  with  a  sort 
of  a  groan,  and  gazed  about  him  with  the  fearfulness 
of  a  hunted  animal. 

A  murmur  of  discontent  arose  from  the  savage 
throng  surrounding  him.  Donald  glanced  at  Christie, 
whose  face  ^had  grown  deadly  pale,  but  said  nothing. 
Both  young  men  had  risen  in  their  excitement,  and  now 
stood  watching  the  strange  scene  with  eager  interest. 


IS! 


■"I 

:  i 


802 


AT   WAR   WITH    PONTIAC 


Now  the  ulduily  warrior  picked  up  u  atone  and 
handed  it  to  the  dandy  with  an  expressive  j^esture. 
Instead  of  oheying  lie  shook  his  head  despairingly, 
and  an  ominous  growl  came  from  the  assemhlage. 
Again  Donald  looked  at  Christie,  whose  face  wjis 
now  tense  and  drawn,  as  though  he  were  buffering 
mental  anguish. 

Amid  a  deadly  silence  the  warrior  again  advanced, 
and  handed  the  man  a  smooth  piece  of  bark,  at  the 
same  time  making  certain  motions  that  seemed  to  be 
clearly  understood.  The  unfortunate  dandy  took  the 
bark  and  held  it  irresolutely  for  a  moment,  while  his 
gaze  roved  wildly  over  the  assembly  All  ct  once 
it  rested  on  the  two  white  men,  whose  presence  he 
seemed  to  note  for  tlie  first  time.  With  a  loud  cry 
he  dropped  the  bark  and  started  to  run  in  their 
direction.  * 

in  an  instant  he  was  seized,  and  with  yells  of  rage 
the  throng  of  savages  rushed  toward  him.  Eager 
hands  tore  away  the  nodding  plume  of  feathers, 
the  embroidered  robe,  and  whatever  else  they  could 
clutch,  until  only  his  coat  of  paint  remained.  Then, 
as  the  warriore  stepped  aside,  the  squaws,  armed 
with  sticks  and  clubs,  fell  upon  him  like  so  many 
furies,  beating  him  unmercifully.  He  howled,  danced, 
fought,  ran  this  way  and  that,  and,  finally,  breaking 
from  his  tormentoi'S,  fled  to  where  the  two  young 
men  were  standing. 


1 


I 


FRIENDS   IN   CArnVITY 


203 


"Save  me!"  lie  eried.  "Christie!  Hester!  save 
me ! " 

"  By  Heavens !     It  is  Bullen  !  "  gjisped  Christie. 

"So  1  thought  some  time  ago,"  said  DoiiaUl. 

As  tlie  fugitive  reached  them,  he  sprang  behind 
Donahl,  crying,  — 

"The  mark  on  your  arm,  Hester!  Show  it  to 
tiiem !     Nothing  else  will  save  us !  " 

With  these  words  he  clutched  at  the  sleeve  of 
Donald's  hunting-shirt  with  such  energy  it  was  torn 
from  the  shonlder,  and  the  tattooed  token  was  fully 
displayed.  At  sight  of  it  the  foremost  of  the  mob, 
which  had  been  intent  on  capturing  the  trembling 
figure,  now  crouched  l)ehind  Donald,  halted  as  though 
in  obedience  to  an  imperious  order.  Then  they 
crowded  forward  for  a  closer  examination  of  the 
talismanic  mark,  staring  at  it  with  exf 'essions  of 
awe  and  wonder. 


;i? 


'1 


!■ 


CHAPTER   XXVII 

HOW   THE   PAYMASTEIt    NAVIGATED    LAKE    ERIE    IN 

A   TUB 

As  already  stated,  Donald  was  ignorant  of  tl  e 
meaning  of  the  mark  tattooed  on  his  arm,  but  with 
this  manifestation  of  its  power  he  could  not  longer 
doubt  that,  to  Indian  eyes  at  least,  its  significance 
was  of  great  importance.  This  was  the  third  time 
that  it  had  afforded  him  material  aid  in  times  of 
critical  danger,  though  Bullen  had  witnessed  its 
effect  but  once,  and  Christie  never  until  the  present 
moment.  Moreover,  as  the  latter  had  not  learned 
until  now  that  his  friend  bore  such  a  mark,  his  amaze- 
ment at  the  paymaster's  appearance  was  divided  with 
curiosity  concerning  it.  That  it  was  a  powerful 
talisman  was  proved  by  the  evidence;  for  not  only 
had  the  furious  squaws  who  were  belaboring  poor 
Bullen  slunk  away  when  it  was  extended  protect- 
ingly  above  him,  but  the  warriors  now  gazing  at  it 
were  evidently  animated  only  by  a  respectful  curi- 
osity. As  Christie  also  looked  at  the  magic  emblem, 
he  saw  the  outline  of  an  animal,  that  might  be  meant 
for  a  bear,  encircled  by  an  oval  formed  of  two  ser- 
pents. Above  the  whole  was  a  tiny  triangle,  enclos- 
ing the  rude  semblance  of  an  eye. 

204 


1 

t 


I 


HOW  THE  PAYMASTER  NAVIGATED  LAKE  ERIE       206 

Several  of  the  Iiidiaiis  Hurrounding  Donald  pointed 
to  figures  on  tl»eir  own  arms,  similar  to  that  of  the 
animal  on  his,  but  without  the  remainder  of  the  de- 
vice. These  gravely  shook  hands  with  him,  and 
then  walked  away.  Then  came  the  one  who  had 
acted  as  Bullen's  interpreter,  and  ijroudly  displayed 
on  his  arm  a  tattooed  mark  identical  with  that  Ijorne 
by  Donald,  save  that  the  surmounting  eye  was  not 
enclosed.  This  man  did  not  offer  to  shake  hands; 
but,  folding  his  arms  in  a  peculiar  manner,  as  though 
to  indicate  the  oval  of  serpents,  bowed  and  asked, 
in  broken  French:  "What  will  my  brother  of  the 
magic  circle  have  ?  It  is  his  to  command,  and  mine 
to  obey." 

"I  will  have,"  replied  tho  young  man,  quickly 
adapting  his  tone  to  the  occasion,  "  food  for  myself 
and  my  friend.  Then  I  would  be  left  for  a  season, 
that  I  may  question  this  white  man,  who,  painted 
like  a  son  of  the  forest,  yet  seeks  my  protection. 
Also,  if  my  brother  of  the  Metai  is  so  inclined,  I 
would  learn  something  of  the  charge  against  him." 

"It  shall  be  done  as  my  brother  desires, "answered 
the  other.  "  As  to  the  charge  against  this  white  man, 
it  must  also  be  told,  for  all  things  may  be  learned  by 
the  Metai.  Know,  then,  that  he  came  to  us  as  a 
great  medicine  man,  who  wished  to  become  Indian. 
He  performed  marvellous  deeds,  and  won  our  confi- 
dence. He  offered  to  show  us  how  we  might  safely 
capture  the  fort  of  the  log  house.     He  placed  powder 


I  '-' 


m 


20G 


AT   WAR   WITH  rONTIAC 


SO  as  to  destroy  it.  Then,  in  the  night,  when  all 
was  ready,  he  moved  the  powder  by  his  magic. 
Without  going  near  the  place  where  it  was  he  made 
it  to  explode,  so  that  it  killed  many  of  our  young 
men,  and  turned  to  water  the  hearts  of  others.  For 
this  wickedness  the  Great  Spirit  took  from  him  his 
medicine,  so  that  he  can  no  longer  do  the  things  he 
once  did,  as  was  shown  in  the  tests  but  now.  There- 
fore is  he  become  a  dog,  and  must  die  as  a  dog  when 
my  brother  shall  be  finished  with  him." 

"It  is  well,"  replied  Donald,  gravely,  "and  later 
I  will  speak  further  concerning  tliis  matter  with  my 
brother  of  the  Metai,  and  with  the  cliiefs." 

With  another  profound  bow  the  interpreter  retired, 
while  the  squaws  brought  an  abundance  of  cooked 
meat  and  parched  corn,  which  tliey  set  l)efore  the 
famished  white  men.  One  of  tliem  also  brought 
bandages,  and  a  healing  salve  for  the  dressing  of 
Donald's  wound ;  but  by  signs  he  intimated  that  she 
must  first  attend  to  Christie's  hurts,  which  she  did. 

Then  they  were  left  to  themselves,  and  fell  raven- 
ously upon  the  food;  but  when  Christie  saw  that 
Bullen  was  about  to  eat  with  them,  he  drew  back, 
and  said  sternly:  "Hester,  I  doubt  if  it  is  becoming 
for  oflficei's  loyal  to  His  Majesty's  service  to  break 
breaci  with  one  who  is,  to  say  the  least,  under  a 
grave  suspicion  of  treachery." 

"Do  you  mean  that  I  am  thus  suspected?"  de- 
manded the  paymaster. 


HOW  THE  PAYMASTER  NAVIGATED  LAKE  ERIE    207 


"I  do,  Mr.  BuUen,"  replied  Christie. 

"But  I  can  easily  explain  everything.  You 
see  —  " 

"  Were  you  not  with  the  enemy  during  the  attack 
on  Fort  Presque  Isle?" 

"Yes;  but  —  " 

"Did  you  not  teach  him  to  throw  up  breastworks 
an<l  open  a  mine  ?  " 

"I  did;  but  —  " 

"  Was  it  not  you  who  demanded  the  surrender  of 
the  post?" 

"  It  was ;  but  as  —  " 

"That  will  do,  sir.  Your  admissions  are  suffi- 
cient to  debar  you  from  our  company.  Hester,  if 
this  man  insists  upon  eating  now,  we  must  let  him 
eat  alone." 

"For  Heaven's  sake,  gentlemen!"  cried  the  little 
man,  with  an  agonized  expression  on  his  painted 
face.  "  Do  not  condemn  me  without  a  hearing.  I 
can  explain  everything  to  your  satisfaction,  indeed 
I  can." 

"  It  seems  to  me  that  you  are  a  little  hasty  in  your 
conclusions,  Christie,"  said  Donald.  "It  is  cer- 
tainly unfair  to  condemn  a  man  without  hearing 
what  he  has  to  say,  and  I  for  one  am  too  hungry  to 
listen  to  Mr.  Bullen's  explanations  before  eating. 
So  let  us  fall  to  and  dispose  of  the  more  pressing 
matter  before  we  consider  the  more  important." 

Although  Christie  accepted  this  advice,  he  did  so 


I  :;i{: 


1    t 


208 


AT  WAR   WITH  PONTIAC 


with  a  bad  grace,  for  he  was  feeling  very  keenly 
the  loss  of  his  post;  and  the  meal  was  eaten  in  an 
embarrassing  silence.  When  it  was  finished,  they 
rid  themselves  of  its  debris  by  simply  removing  to 
another  place,  where,  though  many  eyes  watched 
them  curiously  from  all  parts  of  the  camp,  they  were 
allowed  to  converse  unmolested. 

"Now,  Mr.  Bullen,'*  said  Donald,  who  was  forced 
to  take  the  lead  by  Christie's  stiff  silence,  "  we  shall 
be  pleased  to  listen  to  your  story,  and  especially  glad 
to  have  you  explain  away  the  suspicions  which,  you 
must  confess,  we  liave  grounds  for  entertaining." 

"Yes,"  replied  the  little  paymaster,  whose  present 
humbleness  was  in  striking  contrast  to  his  former 
pomposity,  "  I  can  understand  how,  from  your  point 
of  view,  my  recent  course  of  action  may  be  open  to 
misconception.  I  hope,  however,  to  prove  to  you 
very  quickly  that,  while  I  may  have  made  mis- 
takes and  played  the  part  of  a  fool,  I  have  acted 
with  the  most  honorable  intentions,  as  well  as  with 
a  sincere  desire  to  advance  the  cause  to  ^/hich  I 
am  pledged.  You  need  not  fear  that  I  shall  omit 
any  detail,  nor  fail  to  state  the  exact  facts  of  the 
case,  for  I  realize  only  too  clearly  how  absolutely  my 
reputation  rests  in  the  hands  of  you  two.  I  also 
believe  that  my  very  life  depends  on  Hester's  in- 
fluence with  yonder  savages,  and  the  extent  to 
which  he  is  willing  to  exert  it.  Therefore,  with 
your  permission,  I  will  begin  my  story  at  the  mo- 


I 


HOW  THE  PAYMASTER  NAVIGATED  LAKE  ERIE    209 


I 


i 


A 


ment  when,  as  I  was  taking  my  accustomed  evening 
bath  on  Pelee  Point  some  ten  days  ago,  there  came 
a  sound  of  distant  firing  that  caused  you,  Hester,  to 
seize  your  gun  and  disappear  without  a  word.  I 
must  say  that  at  the  time  I  felt  rather  sore  over 
your  desertion,  nor  can  I  understand  now  how  it  is 
that  I  meet  you  so  far  from  those  whom  I  tliought 
you  were  most  anxious  to  discover  and  protect." 

"Do  you  mean,"  demanded  Donald,  excitedly, 
"that  you  know  what  became  of  my  sister  Edith 
and  her  companion?" 

"  I  do,  for  I  not  only  spent  two  days  in  their  com- 
pany about  a  week  ago,  but  it  is  owing  to  Miss  Hes- 
ter, your  sister,  that  I  find  myself  in  this  present 
predicament." 

"How?  Where?  Are  they  safe?"  demanded 
both  listeners. 

"  "  believe  them  to  be  comparatively  safe,"  re- 
plied Bullen,  "but  if  you  will  permit  me  to  con- 
tinue my  story  in  my  own  way,  you  can  judge  for 
yourselves."  - 

"  Very  well  I  only  get  on  quickly,"  urged  Chris- 
tie, who  was  now  as  eagerly  interested  as  he  had 
been  indifferent  but  a  moment  before. 

"As  I  was  saying,"  continued  the  pajrmaster, 
"Hester  had  hardly  disappeared  when  both  myself 
and  my  man  were  seized  by  the  Indians  of  our  crew, 
and  for  a  moment  I  thought  they  were  about  to  put 
us  to  death.     Then  they  hit  on  another  plan  with 


210 


AT   WAR    WITH   I'ONTIAC 


regard  to  me,  which  was  to  set  me  adrift,  naked  as 
I  was,  in  my  tub.  What  they  did  with  poor  Tum- 
mas  I  have  no  knowledge." 

"Set  you  adrift  in  your  tub?"  repeated  Donald, 
incredulously." 

"Yes.  You  know  I  always  claimed  that  it  was  a 
capital  life  preserver,  though  I  must  admit  tliat  J 
would  have  chosen  to  test  its  sea-going  qualities 
on  a  body  of  water  somewhat  smaller  than  Lake 
Erie.  However,  as  I  had  no  choice  in  the  matter,  I 
was  set  adrift,  as  I  say.  Fortunately  for  me  the  sea 
was  smooth,  for  an  off-shore  breeze  soon  carried  me 
beyond  reach  and  sight  of  land,  where  I  must 
quickly  have  been  swamped  had  there  been  any 
waves  moving.  After  awhile  1  became  so  thor- 
oughly chilled  and  benumbed  that  I  thought  I 
should  perish  with  the  cold,  as  indeed  I  sliould, 
had  T  not  betliought  me  of  the  canvas  hood  on  the 
back  of  my  tub.  This,  after  infinite  labor,  and  the 
most  careful  balancing  to  prevent  an  upset,  I  finally 
managed  to  obtain.  Wrapped  in  it,  I  made  out  to 
exist  through  that  fearful  night,  which  seemed  as 
though  it  would  never  end. 

"In  the  morning  I  was  out  of  sight  of  land, 
though  soon  after  sunrise  I  detected  a  speck  lying 
in  the  direction  I  was  taking,  that  afterwards  proved 
to  be  a  small  island.  A  breeze  sprang  up  with  the 
sun,  and  though  it  drove  me  along  more  rapidly,  it 
also  sent  little  waves  slopping  over  the  sides  of  my 


HOW  THE  PAYMASTER  NAVIGATED  LAKE  ERIE     211 


tub,  SO  that  I  was  obliged  to  bail  pretty  constantly 
with  a  sponge.  At  the  same  time  I  was  broiled  and 
frizzled  by  the  blaze  of  the  sun  on  my  bare  body. 
To  remedy  this,  I  bit  away  some  of  the  stitches  in 
the  bottom  of  my  canvas  bag,  until  I  made  an  open- 
ing through  which  I  could  thrust  my  head.  I  com- 
pleted tlie  garment  thus  formed  by  opening  holes  in 
the  sides  for  my  arms.  Upon  my  unprotected  head, 
whicli,  as  you  set;  is  inclined  to  be  bald,  the  sun 
beat  with  such  fury  that  I  feared  my  brain  would 
be  affected,  until  I  conceived  the  ha[)py  thought  of 
tying  on  a  wet  sponge. 

"  By  the  time  I  was  thus  equipped,  it  was  nearly 
noon,  and  the  island  I  liad  been  approaching  all  the 
morning  was  close  at  liand.  I  saw,  however,  that  I 
was  in  danger  of  drifting  past  without  touching  it, 
and  to  avert  this  evil  I  began  to  paddle  with  my 
hands.  In  order  to  preserve  the  equilibrium  of  the 
tub  under  these  efforts  I  was  obliged  to  paddle  it 
back  foremost.  Thus  I  was  completely  hidden  from 
the  shore,  nor  could  I  see  it  save  at  a  distance  on 
either  side. 

"At  length,  when  I  was  about  used  up  by  this 
unaccustomed  exertion,  my  craft  touched  bottom, 
and  I  joyfully  stepped  out  in  water  not  over  my 
knees.  To  my  dismay,  I  was  immediately  seized 
by  a  couple  of  savages,  who  had  evidently  been  wait- 
ing for  me,  and  found  that  I  had  escaped  from  one 
enemy  only  to  fall  into  the  liands  of  another.     The 


! 


J.il 


..J 


i 


212 


AT  WAR   WITH   PONTIAO 


feeling  thus  experienced  was,  however,  as  nothing 
compared  with  what  I  underwent  when  I  saw  stand- 
ing but  a  short  distance  away  three  ladies,  who  were 
regarding  me  with  curiosity  and  amazement.  Im- 
agine, if  you  can,  my  mingled  horn^r  and  pleasure 
at  recognizing  in  two  of  them  the  very  persons 
whom  you  and  I,  Hester,  had  been  so  anxious  to 
overtake." 

"Not  my  sister!  "  cried  Donald. 

"  Yes,  your  sister,  Miss  Edith,  and  Madam  Roth- 
say.  I  don't  think  they  recognized  me  at  first,  for 
when  I  tried  to  make  the  best  of  the  situation  by 
speaking  and  expressing  my  happiness  at  thus  meet- 
ing them.  Miss  Edith  gave  a  sort  of  a  gasp  and 
cried:  *Why,  aunty  I  I  do  believe  it  is  Mr.  bul- 
len  I '  She  seemed  so  distressed,  that  I  hastened  not 
only  to  assure  her  of  my  identity,  but  that  with  the 
exception  of  a  few  blisters  I  was  quite  well.  I  also 
attempted  to  divert  her  mind  by  praising  the  won- 
derful sea-going  qualities  of  my  tub;  but  all  at  once 
she  —  " 

"Oh,  Bullen!  Bullen!  oh  Lord!  I  imagine  the 
tableau!*^  roared  Donald,  shouting  with  uncon- 
trollable laughter  at  the  seen 3  thus  presented  to  his 
imagination.  Even  Christie  smiled.  The  startled 
Indians  regarded  the  white  men  with  wonder,  and 
the  little  paymaster  gazed  at  Donald  with  mute 
indignation. 


CHAPTER   XXVIII 


THE  PAYMASTER  IN  WAR-PAINT  AND  FEATHERS 


"That  is  just  what  Miss  Edith  did,"  remarked 
Bullen,  in  a  grieved  tone,  when  Donald's  outburst 
of  mirth  had  somewhat  subsided. 

"What?" 

"Laughed.  And  when  I  tried  to  convince  her 
that  my  unfortunate  predicament  was  not  a  subject 
for  merriment,  she  only  laughed  the  more,  until 
finally  she  ran  away  and  disappeared  in  the  forest, 
with  which  most  of  the  island  was  covered." 

"  Well,  I  don't  blame  her,"  said  Donald.  "  Why, 
man,  the  spectacle  must  have  been  enough  to  make 
a  graven  image  chuckle.  Didn't  Madam  Rothsay 
laugh,  too?" 

"Certainly  not.  She  only  coughed  and  smiled 
and  apologized  in  the  sweetest  manner  for  having 
accidentally  been  a  witness  to  my  arrival ;  hoped  they 
would  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  me  later  after  I 
had  recovered  from  the  effects  of  my  voyage,  and 
all  that  sort  of  thing.  Behaved  in  the  most  lady- 
like manner,  by  Jove." 

"And  the  third  lady?  By  the  way,  who  was 
she?" 

213 


i 


214 


AT    WAR    WITH   TONTIAC 


"Oh,  she  was  only  an  Indian  girl;  but  a  stunner, 
for  all  that.  She  may  have  laughed,  but  I  didn't 
notice;  for  she  ran  after  Miss  Edith.  I  found  out 
about  her  afterwards.  She  is  Pontiac's  daughter, 
and  her  name  is  Ah-mo,  which  means  the  bee  or 
the  sweet  one.  She  was  educated  in  the  convent  at 
Montreal  and  went  into  society  there.  Refused  a 
French  count,  I  believe,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing. 
Don't  you  remember  the  fellows  at  Niagara  were 
talking  of  her?  As  near  as  I  could  make  out,  she 
had  been  sent  by  her  father  to  look  after  the  ladies 
at  the  time  of  the  attack  on  Cuyler's  party,  and  was 
acting  the  part  of  hostess  when  I  met  them,  or  some- 
thing of  that  kind." 

"Ah-mo,"  repeated  Donald,  meditatively,  and 
smiling  as  though  the  name  recalled  a  pleasant  vis- 
ion.    "Well,  what  became  of  you  after  that?" 

"Oh!  when  they  saw  that  I  was  a  friend  of  the 
ladies,  those  Indian  chaps  behaved  very  decently; 
took  me  to  their  camp,  gave  me  something  to  eat, 
and  fixed  me  up  as  well  as  they  knew  how.  Of 
course  I  was  obliged  to  do  the  best  I  could  with 
what  they  had  to  offer,  and  as  paint  constituted  the 
principal  part  of  their  costume  I  was  obliged  to  make 
use  of  it.  They  all  took  a  hand  at  decorating  me,^ 
and  I  must  say  that  I  think  the  tout  ensemble  of  my 
appearance  as  an  Ottawa  warrior  was  rather  neat." 

"Extremely  so,"  admitted  Donald. 

"  That  white  blanket  I  borrowed  from  Miss  Pon- 


j 

I 


TIIK  PAVMASIKK  IN  WAIl-l'AINT  AND  FKATIIKHS    216 


tijic,"  C(Hitiinu3(l  tliu  little  [)jiymfister,  "'juid  the  moc- 
casins I  ^ot  t'l'uiii  licr  brother.  Of  cotirse  there 
wasn't  such  a  thiii«^  as  a  wig*  to  be  lu*  '  and  so  I  made 
a  liberal  use  of  feathers  in  its  [)lace.  The  l)est  part 
of  the  day  was  sjient  in  getting  me  into  shape,  and 
when  1  called  on  the  ladies  in  tlie  evening  I  vow 
they  didn't  recognize  me.  Took  me  for  a  sure- 
enough  Indian,  and  thinking  I  didn't  understand 
English,  I  suppose,  passed  lemarks  on  my  ap- 
pearance. 

"'Isn't  he  a  guy?'  said   Miss   Kdith. 

"*Notatall, '  replied  Madam  Kothsay;  'he  is  by 
f?.i  the  best-looking  Indian  I  have  seen,  and  I 
shouldn't  be  surprised  if  he  were  Pontiac  himself.'  " 

Here  Domild  winked  at  Christie. 

"When  I  thanked  her  for  the  compliment,"  con- 
tinued the  paymaster,  "and  they  recognized  my 
voice,  I  thought  that  Miss  Edith  would  have  a  fit, 
she  laughed  so  immoderately.  In  fact,  she  did  noth- 
ing but  laugh  whenever  she  cfiught  sight  of  me  until 
an  event  occurred  that  gave  her  something  more  seri- 
ous to  think  about.  It  struck  me  as  being  pretty 
rough  on  a  man  who  was  trying  to  make  the  most 
of  his  opportunity  to  win  her  good  graces.'* 

"  What  happened  to  divert  her  from  the  absurdity 
of  your  masquerade  ?  "  inquired  Christie. 

"  Nothing  more  nor  less  than  news  of  the  proposed 
attack  on  you,"  replied  Bullen.  "  During  the  second 
day  of  my  stay  on  the  island,  the  war-party  destined 


216 


AT   WAR   WITH   PONTIAC 


for  Presque  Isle  Ccame  along  and  camped  there  for  a 
few  hours.  I  had  been  amusing  myself  and  estab- 
lishing a  reputation  as  medicine  man  among  the 
few  Indians  stationed  there,  by  rehearsing  some  of 
my  old  tricks,  and  when  this  new  gang  appeared, 
nothing  would  do  but  an  exhibition  for  their  benefit. 
They  were  so  impressed  with  my  power  over  the  fire- 
demon,  that  they  invited  me  to  join  them.  They 
promised  me  all  sorts  of  honors  if  I  would  comply, 
and  threatened  to  test  my  powers  by  subjecting  me 
to  torture  b;y  fire  in  case  I  refused.  I  had  no  idea 
at  that  time  of  their  especial  mission,  and  was  won- 
dering how  to  escape  from  my  awkward  fix,  when  at 
that  moment  Miss  Edith  appeared." 

"  Laughing  as  usual,  I  suppose  ? "  said  Donald,  a 
little  bitterly,  for  he  was  beginning  to  think  that 
his  sister  exhibited  rather  too  much  lightness  of 
heart,  in  view  of  the  gravity  of  her  own  situation, 
to  say  nothing  of  the  dangers  and  hardships  he  was 
undergoing  on  her  behalf. 

"So  far  from  it,"  replied  the  paymaster,  "that 
there  were  traces  of  tears  on  her  cheeks,  and  she 
was  evidently  suffering  great  mental  distress. 

"'Oh,  Mr.  BullenI '  she  said  in  a  low  tone,  so  as 
not  to  be  overheard  by  the  savages,  in  case  any  of 
them  understood  English,  *I  have  just  learned  of 
something  dreadful.  This  war-party  is  on  its  way 
to  surprise  Presque  Isle,  and  capture  the  survivors 
of  poor  Mr.  Cuyler's  expedition,  who  have  probably 


THE  PAYMASTEIi  IN  WAR-PAINT  AND  KKATIIKRS    217 


sought  refuge  there.  Just  think  how  terrible  it 
would  he  if  they  should  succeed,  and  our  friends 
should  be  killed!  Can't  you  do  something  to  frus- 
trate their  wicked  plan  ?  You  seem  to  have  gained 
such  an  influence  over  them,  I  am  sure  you  can  if 
you  only  will.' 

"I  was  rather  staggered  by  this  news,  of  course, 
and  when  she  added:  'If  you  would  only  try,  Mr. 
BuUen,  and  should  succeed  in  saving  the  brave  men 
in  that  fort,  I  should  ever  esteem  you  among  the 
very  dearest  of  my  friends, '  my  resolution  was  in- 
stantly taken. 

"I  answered:  'For  your  sake.  Miss  Edith,  I  will 
make  the  effort  and  do  what  lies  in  my  power  to 
thwart  the  design  of  the  red  villains.'  With  that 
it  was  really  touching  to  witness  her  gratitude  and 
to  hear  her  say  that  she  should  pray  for  my  safety 
and  success  from  that  moment.'* 

"  She  must  have  reasoned  that  I  would  be  search- 
ing for  her  among  Cuyler's  fugitives  and  would 
very  likely  be  in  Presque  Isle,'*  reflected  Donald. 

"I  don't  see  how  that  cculd  be,"  retorted  Bullen; 
"for  I  had  carefully  avoided  any  mention  of  your 
name,  or  of  the  fact  that  I  had  met  you,  thinking  it 
useless  cruelty  to  arouse  her  anxiety  before  your  fate 
was  definitely  known. " 

"Which  showed  remarkable  good  sense  on  your 
part,  and  I  thank  you  for  your  consideration,"  cried 
Donald.     "  Her  anxiety  then  must  have  been  for  —  '* 


-k' 


218 


A'l'    WAIi    WITH    IM)NriAC 


r;  r 


"  I^it  how  (li<I  you  piMUHM-il  to  uv,ikv,  prooil  your 
|»roiiii.si!?"  iiilci'iiipUMl  ('liristie,  luwlily.  "It  seems 
to  iiio  yoii  midertook  ii  [uetty  \n^  eontnict." 

"So  it  was,"  lespoiided  the  [niyinaster,  "jiiiil  in 
onlcr  to  (iiiiry  it  out,  I  hecuiue,  (Voin  that  inoinent, 
an  Indian  of  tli(;  Indians,  a  redskin  of  tlie  redskins, 
and  a  savii|;'e  «d  the  sava<^t;s.  VVIiy,  for  the  sake  of 
n»y  paint  1  even  ^ave  U[)  my  daily  tuhbin^,  wliieii,  hy 
the  way,  in  my  present  [losition  of  deiiosed  medieine 
man  and  white  eai>tive,  I  snppose  I  may  liave  the 
inehmeholy  satisfaetion  of  resnming.  I  innnediately 
agreed  U)  ae(!om[)any  the  war-[)arty,  telling  them 
that,  having  onee  adopted  the  Indian  eostnme,  1  had 
therehy  ent  myself  off  from  all  eoin[)anionshi[)  with 
the  whites.  1  promised  to  teaeh  them  the  art  of 
war  as  praetised  by  the  redcoats,  and  show  them 
how  to  captnre  Presque  Isle  without  the  loss  of  a 


man. 

41 


'> 


Oh  you  did,  did  you?"  growled  Christie. 
"  Yes,  I  did,  and  to  hegin  with,  I  delayed  their 
progiess  as  much  as  [)ossil)le,  in  the  hope  that  Cuy- 
ler  might  reach  yon  before  we  overto(»k  him,  and 
that  you  might  join  his  retreat  to  Niagara.  For 
this  purpose  1  insisted  that  they  carry  along  my 
tub,  which,  as  I  truly  affirmed,  contained  all  my 
medicine.  Every  morning  when  they  were  ready 
to  start,  I  sat  in  it,  under  a  closed  tent  of  matting, 
and  performed  magic  which  they  dared  not  inter- 
rupt.    Sometimes  the  main  body  went  on  without 


rilK   I'AVMAS'I'KU   IN   WAIt   TAINr  AND  KKATIIKKS     211> 


US,  so  IVsirliil  Nvi'if  iUvy  of  inturfciing  witli  my 
inystic  iiU;s.'' 

"VVIiJit  did  you  «lo  uuilur  the  U;nt?"  iinked 
Do/iiild. 

''Oh,  just  juhhtiiod  ^nl)lH}rish  iuul  r:itthul  things 
and    Miiide    smokes,''   re)»lu;d    the    ex-meditMue  mafi. 

"'Then,  wlieu  we  rtiaeluMl  I'li^s^ue  Ish;  and  found 
it  still  o(UMi|>ied,  I  dissuaded  them  from  an  assault 
and  pro[)ose<l  the  seheme  (»f  a  mine  hy  whieh  the 
fort  might  be  destroyed  without  the  loss  of  a  war- 
rioi".  Aeeording  to  theii'  belief  this  mine  was  to 
run  direetly  to  tlie  bloekhonse,  but  I  so  laid  it  out 
that  it  should  strike  a  building  some  distance  away. 
Then  I  meant  to  e()Ueet  all  their  powder,  harmlessly 
explode  it  beneath  the  empty  building,  and  thus 
leave  them  without  means  for  prosecuting  the  fight. 
This  plan  miscarried  through  a  cave-in  of  the  roof, 
which  showed  them  the  true  location  of  the  mine's 
end  and  gave  them  a  chance  to  set  (ire  to  the  build- 
ing nearest  the  blockhouse,  which  they  hoped  thus 
to  destroy. 

"When  that  {dun  failed,  they  continued  the  mine 
in  the  direction  indicated  by  their  new  liearings  and 
you  would  have  been  blown  sky-high  the  moment  it 
was  completed,  had  I  not  persuaded  them  to  fii-st 
demand  a  surrender,  and  then  wait  until  morning 
foi  your  answer.  Then  I  hoped,  after  getting  you 
safely  out  of  the  place,  with  your  arms  and  ammu- 
nition, under  the  pretence  of  surrendering,  to  harm- 


i 


I 


220 


AT  WAR  WITH  PONTIAC 


lessly  explode  the  mine,  thus  destroying  all  the 
enemy  \s  powder,  and  leaving  you  masters  of  the 
situation.  How  that  plan  was  frustrated,  you  know 
as  well  as  I,  though  how  the  powder  ever  got  moved 
and  prematurely  exploded,  I  never  expect  to  dis- 
cover unless  you  had  a  hand  in  it,  Christie." 

"No,"  replied  the  ensign,  who  had  just  received 
ap.  expressive  glance  from  Donald.  "Neither  I  nor 
those  with  me  had  any  definite  knowledge  of  your 
mine  before  the  explosion  occurred." 

"Well,  however  it  vms  caused,  my  plans  were 
completely  defeated,"  said  Bullen,  "and  not  only 
that,  but  my  reputation  as  a  medicine  man  was 
ruined.  As  soon  as  we  got  to  this  place,  a  council 
was  called,  and  I  was  charged  with  exploding  the 
mine  so  as  to  destroy  the  Indians  instead  of  the 
blockhouse.  When  I  protested  my  innocence,  they 
argued  that  I  must,  then,  have  lost  my  power  over 
the  fire-demon,  and  ordered  me  to  repeat  the  magic 
tricks  by  which  I  had  gained  their  confidence.  You 
witnessed  my  humiliating  failure,  and  its  results; 
even  my  effervescing  powders  had  become  damp  and 
failed  to  act. 

"  That  is  my  story,  gentlemen,  and,  if  after  hear- 
ing it,  you  still  doubt  my  loyalty  to  the  service  to 
which  we  are  all  pledged,  I  can  hp.vQ  no  hope  that 
others  will  believe  me.  In  that  case  I  have  no  de- 
sire to  live  and  should  make  no  struggle  against  the 
fate  these  savages  contemplate  for  me.     If,   how- 


THE  PAYMASTER  IN  WAR-PAINT  AND  FEATHERS    221 


ever,  you  can  believe  my  story,  wildly  improliable 
as  I  know  it  must  sound,  then  am  I  once  more 
restored  to  life  and  hope." 

As  he  thus  concluded,  the  poor  little  man,  gro- 
tesquely painted,  battered,  and  bruised,  turned  a  face 
of  such  intense  pleading  toward  the  comrades  who 
had  become  his  judges,  that  they  both  were  moved 
by  an  overwhelming  impulse  to  spring  forward  at 
the  same  moment  and  grasp  his  hands. 

"  We  do  believe  you !  "  they  cried. 

"I  am  convinced,"  added  Christie,  "that  you 
have  acted  as  becomes  an  officer  and  r  gentleman, 
Bullen,  bravely  and  according  to  your  best  judg- 
ment for  the  honor  and  advancement  of  our  cause. 
This  I  not  only  say  now,  but  am  prepared  to  state 
and  maintain  hereafter,  officially  and  publicly,  and 
there  is  my  hand  on  it." 

"And  I  say,"  cried  Donald,  "that  you  are  a 
trump,  Bullen,  a  genuine  trump.  Not  only  do  I  offer 
you  my  sincere  friendship  from  this  time  forth,  but 
I  hereby  pledge  all  the  powers  of  the  Metai  —  what- 
ever that  may  be  —  so  far  as  I  can  control  them,  and 
of  the  totem,  whose  emblem  I  wear,  to  your  service  I  " 

The  effect  of  these  hearty  assurances  of  faith  in 
him,  and  of  continued  friendship,  was  such  that  the 
little  man's  overstrained  nerves  suddenly  gave  way. 
He  tried  to  speak,  failed  to  utter  a  sound,  and  sank 
down  sobbing  like  a  child. 


! 


CHAPTER   XXIX 

DONALD   AND   THE   PAYMASTER   ESCAPE 

While  Donald's  fears  for  Edith's  safety  were 
somewhat  allayed  by  the  payro  .t;*^^*  '^'s  story,  he  was 
still  very  anxious  concerning  her.  lie  knew  nothing 
of  Pontiac's  friendly  feeling  toward  his  family,  and 
feared  that  the  prisoners  were  only  being  held  on  the 
island  until  it  should  be  convenient  to  remove  them 
to  some  distant  Indian  village,  where,  beyond  the 
hope  of  rescue,  they  would  be  compelled  to  endure  a 
life  of  slavery.  Now,  therefore,  his  desire  was  to  re- 
turn to  the  vicinity  of  the  island,  where  he  hoped  to 
find  some  opportunity  of  escaping  from  his  captors, 
and  of  effecting  his  sister's  rescue.  In  his  plans  he 
of  course  included  Christie  and  Bullen,  whom  he 
counted  on  for  aid,  though,  to  his  chagrin,  he  was 
not  allowed  to  communicate  with  them  after  that  fii-st 
interview.  During  it  the  leaders  of  the  war-party 
also  held  a  council,  which  resulted  in  a  decision  to 
proceed  at  once  on  their  journey.  Thus  Bullen  had 
hardly  concluded  his  story,  when  cam],  was  broken 
and  the  westward  voyage  was  resumed.  At  the  same 
time  the  three  white  men  were  separated  and  assigned 
to  different  canoes. 

222 


DONALD  AND  THE   PAYMASTER   ESCAPE 


223 


In  their  haste  the  Indians  travelled  early  and  late, 
with  all  speed.  Both  Christie  and  BuUen  were  com- 
pelled to  assist  in  paddling,  as  well  as  to  labor  at  the 
most  menial  tasks  when  in  camp,  receiving  as  a  rec- 
ompense only  kicks  and  blows.  They  had,  indeed, 
become  slaves,  and  were  treated  as  such,  while  at 
all  times  their  tormentors  found  delight  in  assuring 
them  that  they  would  most  certainly  be  l)urned  to 
death  on  reaching  the  villages  near  Detioit.  Fortu- 
nately game  was  plentiful,  and  food  was  procured  in 
abundance  by  the  hunters,  otherwise  the  two  slaves 
would  have  suffered  from  hunger,  as  they  were  never 
allowed  to  eat  until  the  wants  of  every  other  person 
in  the  party  had  been  amply  supplied. 

Donald,  on  the  other  hand,  while  watchfully 
guarded,  was  treated  with  the  utmost  of  savage 
courtesy.  He  was  not  asked,  nor  even  allowed,  to 
perform  any  labor,  was  always  supplied  with  the 
choicest  food  the  camp  afforded,  and  was  the  first  to 
whom  the  calumet  was  handed  upon  the  conclusion 
of  a  meal.  In  only  two  ways  was  he  reminded  of  his 
true  position.  At  night,  though  he  was  not  bound, 
as  were  his  comrades,  he  was  obliged  to  sleep  between 
two  warriors,  who  were  watchfully  awake  witli  every 
movement  he  made.  If  he  attempted  to  hold  con- 
vene with  the  other  captives,  they  were  driven  from 
his  presence  with  blows*  Once,  when  he  tried  to 
communicate  with  Bulleu,  a  young  warrior  sprang 
forward,  struck    the    payniiister   with   a   stick,   and 


til 


Hi 

u 


'i 


224 


AT  WAR  Wri  i  PONTIAC 


r 


angrily  bade  him  begone.  Boiling  with  rage,  and 
turning  on  the  aggressor  with  clenched  fists,  Donald 
was  about  to  avenge  this  insult,  when  he  who  had 
acted  as  interpreter  sprang  between  them. 

"  My  brother  must  be  very  careful,"  he  said  to  Don- 
ald ;  "  for  some  of  our  young  men  are  so  reckless  that 
they  do  not  even  respect  the  Metai.  If  you  should 
strike  one  of  them,  they  would  surely  kill  you  and 
the  other  white  men  as  well." 

So  Donald  was  obliged  to  control  himself  as  best 
he  could,  and  bear  the  sufferings  of  his  companions 
in  silence,  but  his  mind  was  ever  filled  with  plans  for 
escape.  Whenever  he  succeeded  in  attracting  Chris- 
tie's attention,  he  sought  by  meaning  glances  at  a 
certain  c£*noe  smaller  than  any  of  the  others,  and 
then  off  over  the  lake,  to  convey  an  idea  of  what  was 
in  his  mind,  and  was  led  to  believe  from  the  other's 
expression  that  he  understood.  From  BuUen,  how- 
ever, he  c  -  Id  gain  no  satisfaction  in  this  way,  and 
concluded  that  the  paymaster  was  not  so  quick-witted 
as  his  brother  officer. 

At  length  one  noon  the  war-party  reached  a  point 
near  the  ruins  of  Sandusky,  where  they  found  a 
number  of  Shawnees,  who  were  about  to  ascend 
Cedar  Creek  to  their  villages  on  the  Scioto.  These 
had  with  them  several  casks  of  rum,  one  of  which 
was,  after  a  long  talk,  transferred  to  the  canoe  in 
which  Donald  travelled.  Then,  to  his  intense  grief 
and  dismay,  his  own  party  resumed  their  journey. 


DONALD  AND  THE  PAYMASTER   ESCAPE 


225 


with  the  exception  that  Christie  was  left  behind  in 
the  hands  of  the  strangers.  The  slave  had  been  sold, 
though  he  did  not  realize  the  fact  until  he  started  to 
enter  the  canoe  in  which  he  had  come,  and  was 
forcibly  restrained  while  it  was  pushed  off.  Then  as 
the  meaning  of  the  situation  flashed  across  him,  he 
wrenched  loose  from  those  who  held  him  and  raced 
along  the  beach  until  opposite  the  canoe  that  held 
Donald,  to  whom  he  shouted:  — 

"Good-bye,  Hester!  God  bless  you!  Tell  them 
at  the  fort  that  I  —  " 

Here  he  was  pounced  upon  by  his  new  masters 
and  dragged  away  with  Donald's  answering  farewell 
ringing  in  his  ears. 

It  was  after  sunset  that  evening  when  the  war- 
party  reached  the  camp  site  selected  as  suitable  for 
the  orgy  in  which  they  proposed  to  indulge.  The 
canoe  containing  Donald  and  the  cask  of  fire-water 
was  among  the  last  to  make  a  landing.  Already 
fires  were  lighted  on  the  bank  above,  and  the  earlier 
arrivals  were  impatiently  awaiting  the  liquor  for 
which  they  had  been  willing  to  barter  a  highly  prized 
captive.  Thus  the  moment  it  landed  the  cask  was 
seized  and  borne  triumphantly  into  camp,  followed 
by  all  who  had  been  on  the  beach.  For  the  first  time 
since  his  capture,  Donald  was  left  to  himself,  for- 
gotten or  overlooked  in  the  general  excitement.  He 
stood  for  a  minute,  irresolute.  His  opportunity  for 
escape  had  come.     It  would  be  easy  t^  push  off  the 


^•\i 


I 


fv 


( 


22t\ 


AT    WAll    WiTil    I'ONTIAC 


canoe,  jump  in,  and  paddle  away.  To  be  sure,  liis 
absence  would  be  quickly  discovered  and  a  hot 
pursuit  would  ensue,  but  he  was  willing  to  risk  that. 
Or  should  he  slip  into  the  underbrush,  take  a  great 
circuit  about  the  camp  and  make  Ins  way  to  Detroit 
overland  through  the  trackless  forest?  It  would  be 
a  difficult  but  not  impossible  thing  to  do.  >»till.  it 
must  not  be  thought  of,  foi'  tln^ro  was  Kditli  still  a 
captive,  and  au}^  freedinn  that  he  might  gain  ninst  l)e 
devt>ted  to  her  rescue.  So  he  must  take  hi«  chances 
of  escape  by  water. 

Donald  was  moving  toward  the  canoe,  when  his 
steps  were  arrested  by  another  consideration.  What 
would  become  of  Bnllen?  In  theii'  rage  at  the  flight 
of  one  captive,  the  liquor-crazed  savages  would  surely 
kill  the  other.  Could  lie  abandon  a  comrade  to  such 
a  fate?  Certainly  not.  If  he  escaped  at  all,  it  must 
be  in  company  with  the  little  paymaster  who  had 
proved  himself  so  loyal.  So  this  oj)[)oi'tunity  must 
be  allowed  to  slip  by,  for  poor  HuUen  was  somewhere 
up  there  in  the  camp,  cutting  wood  or  performing 
other  of  the  menial  tasks  allotted  to  him. 

"  No ;  old  BuUen  must  not  be  deserted.  There 
were  but  two  of  them  left  now,  and  they  must 
stand  by  each  otlier."  Thus  thinking,  Donald  turned 
toward  the  canq),  but  halted  at  the  sound  of  ap- 
proa(diing  voices.  Then  two  figures  ap})eai'ed  through 
the  dusk,  both  iimning,  and  one  api)arently  pursued 
by  the  other.     lUit  one  wms  swearing,  and  the  other 


.11 


#» 


fi 


THE   INDIAN   FELL   LIKE    A   LOG,    WITH    I3U1.LKN    AND   THE   TUB   ON 

TOP  OF   HIM. 


'  (i 


M 


ill 

m 


f\ 


;  ! 


DONALD   AND  THE   PAYMASTER    ESCAl  E 


227 


laughing.  It  was  poor  BuUen,  clad  in  the  ragged 
blanket,  —  which  was  now  his  sole  garment,  —  selit 
down  to  fetch  his  own  tub,  to  which  one  of  the 
chiefs  had  taken  sucli  a  fancy  that  he  always  sat  in 
it  before  the  evening  camp-fires.  The  labor  of  cany- 
ing  it  up  from  the  canoes  at  night,  and  back  again  in 
the  morning  deTjlved  upon  its  original  owner,  who 
had  thus  come  to  hate  it  with  a  bitter  hatred.  This 
time  he  had  purposely  shirked  the  task  of  lugging 
the  clumsy  thing  up  that  steep  bank,  and  so  had 
been  sent  back  for  it.  The  young  guard  who 
accompanied  him  was  already  exhilarated  by  a  cup 
of  fire-water,  and  in  such  haste  to  return  for  more 
that  he  found  great  delight  in  compelling  his  charge 
to  run  by  prodding  him  from  behind  with  a  fish- 
spear. 

As  Donald  was  somewhat  hidden  in  the  shadow  of  a 
tree,  neither  of  the  newcomers  noticed  him,  until  the 
little  paymaster  had  succeeded  in  getting  the  tub  on 
his  back,  and  started  to  retrace  his  weary  way  to  the 
camp.  Then,  as  Donald  stepped  from  the  shadow, 
BuUen,  recognizing  him,  and  instantly  realizing  their 
opportunity,  turned  like  a  flash,  lunged  forward  with 
lowered  head,  and  butted  the  young  savage  squarely 
in  the  stomach.  He  fell  like  a  log,  with  his  assailant 
and  the  tub  on  top  of  him.  Ere  he  could  regain  his 
voice  or  breath,  he  was  gagged,  bound,  and  lifted 
into  a  canoe,  which  was  immediately  shoved  off. 

No  word  was  spoken  by  cither  of  the  fugitives  as 


(( 


1 


»r- 


4 


I 

I 

i 


i 


228 


AT  WAR   WITH  PONTIAC 


the  light  craft  shot  away  under  the  noiseless  but 
powerful  dips  of  their  straiiiinj  paddles;  but,  in 
spite  of  his  anxiety,  Donald  could  not  help  noticing 
and  wondering  at  his  comrade's  proficiency  in  the 
art  of  canoeing.  The  painful  lessons  of  his  cap- 
tivity had  taught  him  how  to  escape  from  it ;  and  he 
who  two  months  before  had  never  seen  a  birch  canoe 
was  now  paddling  one  with  the  skill  of  an  expert. 

They  were  not  gone  from  the  beach  more  than 
five  minutes,  though  their  point  of  departure  was 
already  lost  to  view  in  the  darkness,  when  a  confu- 
sion of  voices  announced  that  their  escape  was  dis- 
covered, and  infused  a  new  energy  into  their  efforts. 
Donald  was  laying  a  course  due  west,  and  not  more 
than  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  beach.  All  at 
once  he  laid  in  his  paddle,  and  said:  ^^Face  about 
carefuUv,  BuUen,  and  help  me  chuck  this  useless 
weight  overboard." 

"  Are  you  going  to  drown  him  ?  "  asked  the  other, 
as  he  obeyed  the  order  to  face  about. 

"  Not  if  I  can  help  it ;  but  we  must  take  care  that 
he  doesn't  drown  us.  He  would  be  only  too  glad  of 
a  chance  to  upset  the  canoe ;  and  he  wouldn't  have 
very  hard  work,  either." 

The  getting  of  that  young  savage  into  the  water 
was  a  difficult  and  ticklish  job ;  but  they  finally  suc- 
ceeded, after  Donald  had  first  removed  the  gag  from 
his  mouth.  He  took  the  Indian's  knife,  and,  as  the 
latter  slid  into  the  water,  BuUen  held  him  by  the 


DONALD  AND  THE   PAYMASTER   ESCAPE 


229 


8calp-lock,  while  Donald  severed  the  thong  that 
bound  his  wrists.  In  his  rage,  the  Indian  attempted 
to  seize  the  gunwale  of  the  canoe  and  pull  it  under ; 
but,  anticipating  this,  Donald  struck  him  a  rap  on 
the  head  with  the  back  of  the  knife  that  caused  him 
to  change  his  mind. 

"  Do  you  think  he  can  swim  with  his  feet  bound?  " 
asked  BuUen,  as  the  two  white  men  resumed  their 
paddling. 

"  Certainly  he  can,"  replied  Donald ;  '  and  he  can 
yell,  too.     Hear  him  ?  " 

"I  should  say  I  did,  and  I  wondered  why  you 
relieved  him  from  that  gag.  If  he  keeps  up  that 
racket,  he'll  bring  the  whole  fleet  in  this  direction." 

"That  is  exactly  what  I  brought  him  along  for, 
and  what  I  want  him  to  do,"  replied  Donald,  with 
a  laugh.  "Nor  do  I  care  how  much  longer  they 
keep  on  in  this  direction,  for  I  am  about  to  take 
another.  Don't  you  remember  that  we  passed  the 
island  —  a  blue  dot  far  out  in  the  lake  —  this  after- 
noon, so  that  it  is  now  behind  us  and  somewhere 
off  in  the  northeast?  We  have  got  to  run  for  it 
by  the  stars,  and  decide  on  our  course  before  we 
entirely  lose  sight  of  the  coast.  Hush  now,  and 
don't  speak  another  word  for  the  next  hour,  as 
you  value  your  life." 

With  this  Donald  steered  the  canoe,  in  a  great 
sweeping  curve,  out  into  the  vague  blackness  of 
the  fresh-water  sea. 


M 


CIIAPTKH   XXX 


IMMINENT    DANGKK    OF    THE    SCHOONER    GLADWYN 


As  the  canoe  containing  Donald  and  the  pay- 
master swept  silently  along  through  the  darkness, 
its  occupants  heard  the  cries  of  the  young  Indian 
whom  they  had  left  in  the  water  merge  into  a 
sound  of  other  voices,  showing  that  he  had  been 
discovered  by  his  friends,  and  then  all  Wiis  quiet 
save  for  an  ocwisional  yell  from  the  camp,  where 
the  fire-water  was  exerting  its  baneful  influence. 
At  length  these,  too,  died  into  silence,  the  last  glim- 
mer of  firelight  was  lost  in  the  distance,  and  the 
fugitives  felt  that  they  might  safely  exult  over 
their  escape,  though  they  still  observed  the  precau- 
tion of  speaking  in  the  lowest  of  tones. 

"Take  a  rest,  Bullen,"  said  Donald,  breaking  the 
enforced  silence.  "You  must  be  pretty  well  ex- 
hausted with  this  work  coming  on  top  of  what 
you've  done  all  day,  and  it  is  no  longer  necessary 
for  us  to  travel  at  full  speed." 

"  I  am  about  used  up,  that's  a  fact,"  admitted  the 
little  man,  laying  in  his  paddle  and  stretching  him- 
self wearily  in  the  bottom  of  the  canoe. 

"  I  don't  wonder.     But  I  say  I  how  like  a  trump 

230 


IMMlNKNr  liANliKIl  (»K    lili:  SfllOUNKU  (il.ADWYN    231 


you  bowlcil  tliiil  i'ell»)NV  over,  on  ihu  1knu;Ii.  I  wtis 
juHt  woiKleriiijr  how  wi;  could  «lo\vii  him  without 
giving  him  :i  cliaiico  to  uhirm  tlio  c^iimp,  whuii  all  at 
once  you  iiad  the  job  dune,  llovv  did  you  happen  to 
think  of  it?" 

*'  I  hiidn't  hoen  thinking  of  anything  else  from  the 
lust,"  i'(!i)licd  the  i)aymaster,  **and  I  knew  your 
thoughts  vcre  running  in  the  sanu5  directicm,  for  I 
noticed  the  glances  exchanged  between  you  and 
Christie.  I'oor  fellow!  1  wonder  what  will  Income 
of  him." 

"  Yes.  The  dear  old  chap  is  in  the  worst  of  it 
now,"  sighed  Donald.  '"•  We  can  (inly  hoi)e  he'll  be 
held  for  ransom  or  e.»^change.  How  I  wish  he  were 
with  us,  not  o..^  for  his  own  sake,  but  for  the  aid  he 
could  afford  in  the  task  we  have  undertaken." 

"  What  task  ?  " 

"  The  rescue  of  my  sister  ami  Madam  Uothsay,  of 
course." 

"  Vou  don't  mean  that  you  propose,  unarmed  and 
unaided,  to  attem[)t  anything  so  hopeless  as  that?" 

"  Certainly  I  do.  And  that  is  what  we  are  going 
to  the  island  for.  You  wouldn't  leave  them  in  cap- 
tivity, would  you  ?  " 

"  No,  I  wouldn't  do  that ;  but  I  would  wait  in 
hiding  somewhere  for  the  arrival  of  the  reinforce- 
ments that  must  surely  be  coming  up  the  lake  by 
this  time." 

And  so  give  the  Indians  ample  opportunity  for 


*' 


(4 


232 


AT  WAR  WITH  PONTIAC. 


Il 


?» 


removing  their  captives  to  some  remote  and  inac- 
cessible place,  which  I  only  hope  they  have  not  done 
already.  No,  indeed,  that  would  never  do.  We 
must  act  promptly,  and  before  those  chaps  on  the 
island  have  a  suspicion  of  our  commg." 

"  But  there  are  at  least  a  dozen  of  them,  and  all 
are  well  armed." 

"  If  there  were  twice  as  many  I  should  still  make 
the  attempt  to  rescue  my  sister  from  their  hands. 
Just  imagine  the  distress  she  must  be  suffering  all 
this  time,  uncertain  as  to  her  ultimate  fate,  dreading 
the  worst,  and  hoping  against  hope,  that  some  one 
will  come  to  her  assistance.  Foor  child!  the  sus- 
pense must  be  terrible." 

"  Yes,"  sighed  BuUen.  "  And  poor  Madam  Roth- 
say,  too,  plunged  from  the  height  of  civilization  into 
the  depths  of  savagery  without  even  a  maid  or  a 
niirror.  I  can  fully  sympathize  with  her.  But  what 
do  you  propose  to  do  ?  Have  you  thought  out  any 
plan?" 

"  I  have  thought  of  a  great  many ;  but  only  one  of 
them  appears  at  all  feasible.  It  is  that  we  advance 
boldly  into  the  camp  and  demand  that  the  ladies 
be  at  once  taken  to  Detroit,  or  Fort  Niagara  if  the 
Indians  prefer,  wherv.  've  will  promise  that  a  goodly 
ransom  shall  be  paid  for  them." 

"As  we  have  no  means  for  enforcing  such  a  de- 
mand, they  will  only  laugh  at  us  and  add  us  to 
their  list  of  captives." 


' 


IMMINENT  DANGER  OF  THE  SCHOONER  GLADWYN   233 

"But  we  have  the  means  of  at  least  frightening 
them  into  compliance  with  our  wishes.  Are  not 
you  a  great  medicine  man  in  their  estimation,  and 
capable  of  commanding  the  fire-demon?  Am  I  not 
of  the  Totem  of  the  Bear  and  wearer  of  the  mystic 
emblem  of  the  Metai  ?  To  be  sure,  I  am  very  igno- 
rant of  these  things,  but  we  have  had  ample  proof 
of  their  importance,  and  in  the  present  case  I  pro- 
pose to  make  the  most  of  them." 

"  But,  Hester,  I  can't  appear  before  the  ladies  in 
this  hideous  costume.  Do  you  realize  that  I  am 
barefooted  and  literally  bareheaded,  while  my  only 
garment  is  a  wretched  old  blanket,  dirty  and  ragged, 
held  in  place  by  a  rope  of  bark  ?  I  declare  I  don't 
think  I  hav6  ever  been  so  sorry  for  any  one  as  I  am 
for  myself,  when  I  reflect  what  an  object  for  mirth 
I  must  appear.  You  should  remember,  too,  that  I 
have  already  gone  through  with  a  similar  experience, 
which  I  have  no  desire  to  repeat." 

"  And  came  out  of  it  with  flying  colors  and  waving 
plumes.  Why,  my  dear  fellow,  those  chaps  on  the 
island  will  delight  in  decorating,  and  befeathering, 
and  fixing  you  up  again  in  great  shape,  as  they  did 
before.  You  need  not  present  yourself  to  the  ladies 
until  all  your  former  gorgeousness  is  restored.  Then 
imagine  your  triumph.  You  have  no  idea  how  be- 
coming the  costume  of  a  forest  v/arrior  is  to  you. 
Don't  you  remember  how  highly  Madam  Rothsay 
complimented  your  impersonation  of  that  character? 


i 


I 

!   i 


234 


AT   WAR   WITH  TONTIAC 


But  seriously,  BuUeii,  I  doubt  if  there  is  any  other 
plan  so  good  as  the  one  I  have  suggested ;  and  unless 
you  can  think  of  a  better,  it  is  the  one  we  must  adopt. 
Now,  as  we  must  be  at  least  within  sight  of  the 
island,  and  have  no  desire  to  pass  it,  or  land  on  it  in 
the  dark,  I  propose  that  we  get  a  little  sleep  while 
island,  and  have  no  desire  to  pass  it,  or  land  on  it  in 
won't  I  be  glad  of  a  b.eakfast,  though?  Plenty  to 
eat  was  at  least  one  alleviating  feature  of  our  recent 
captivity,  and  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  our  new  hosts 
will  be  equally  generous  with  their  provisions." 

A  few  hours  later  Donald  awoke  with  an  uneasy 
motion  of  the  canoe,  to  find  it  dancing  on  the  little 
seas  raised  by  a  brisk  breeze  from  the  westward. 
The  eastern  sky  was  aglow;  and,  rising  darkly 
against  the  ruddy  light,  not  a  mile  away  lay  an 
island. 

"Is  that  the  one?"  he  asked  of  his  companion, 
after  awakening  him,  and  pointing  to  the  forest- 
crowned  land. 

"  How  should  I  know?  "  answered  BuUen,  sleepily. 
"  They  all  look  alike  from  this  distance." 

"All  right,"  replied  Donald,  cheerily.  "I'll  put 
you  so  close  to  it  that  you  can't  help  knowing." 
So  saying,  he  seized  his  paddle,  and  headed  their  craft 
toward  the  shore.  He  was  weary  and  faint  from 
hunger ;  but  filled  with  an  exhilaration  born  of 
near-by  danger,  and  the  possible  meeting  within  a 
few  minutes  with  the  dearly  loved  sister  whom  he 


I 


IMMINENT  DANGER  OF  THE  SCHOONER  GLADWYN  236 

had  sought  so  long,  and  for  whose  sake  he  had  suf- 
fered so  much. 

They  skirted  the  shore  for  a  short  distance  before 
finding  a  little  cove,  bordered  with  overhanging 
spruce  and  cedars,  at  the  head  of  which  they  made 
a  landing  on  a  betv.ch  of  smooth  pebbles. 

"I  believe  this  is  the  place,"  whispered  the  pay- 
master, visibly  agitated  by  excitement. 

The  silence  about  them  was  unbroken,  and  if  there 
were  people  near  at  hand,  friends  or  foes,  they  gave 
no  sign  of  their  presence. 

"  Hello !  Hello  the  camp !  '*  called  Donald,  loud 
and  cleai".  He  had  no  idea  of  running  the  risk  of 
being  mado  a  target  for  rifle  bullets,  by  attempting 
to  surprise  an  Indian  camp  in  broad  daylight. 

There  was  no  response,  no  sound  of  any  kind ;  and 
after  waiting  a  full  minute  he  sprang  into  a  little 
path  that  wound  upward  among  the  evergreens, 
leaving  BuUen  to  follow  more  slowly. 

When  the  latter  overtook  his  companion,  a  few 
moments  later,  he  found  him  standing  in  an  open 
space  that  he  instantly  recognized  as  the  place 
where  he  had  bidden  farewell  to  Edith  Hester  some 
two  weeks  before.  Now  it  was  silent  and  deserted. 
The  empty  frames  of  a  few  lodges  stood  like  gaunt 
skeletons  of  human  habitations,  and  Donald  was 
gazing  wofully  at  the  sodden  ashes  of  a  camp- 
fire. 

"They  are  gone,"  he  said,  bitterly,  "as  I  might 


.  i\ 


I'fh 


236 


AT  WAR   WITH  PONTIAC 


M' 
,>i: 


)j    .1 


have  known  they  would  be ;  and  from  the  look  of 
things  they  must  have  left  vory  soon  after  you  did. 
Now,  if  you  can  tell  me  which  way  to  turn,  or  what 
to  do  next,  you  will  prove  yourself  a  better  reader  of 
riddles  than  I  am." 

"  Find  something  to  eat  first,  and  plan  afterwards," 
answered  the  little  man,  promptly.  He  could  not 
help  feeling  relieved  at  escaping  the  ordeal  of  laugh- 
ter he  so  much  dreaded ;  and,  though  honestly  sym- 
pathizing with  Donald's  keen  disappointment,  could 
think  of  nothing  better  to  suggest  at  that  moment 
than  breakfast. 

"  I  suppose  you  are  right,"  agreed  Donald,  wearily, 
"  and  if  you  will  start  a  fire  I  will  see  what  I  can 
provide  in  the  way  of  food." 

No  hunter  in  those  days  travelled  without  a  fire- 
bag  containing  flints,  steel,  and  tinder ;  and,  through 
all  vicissitudes,  Donald  had  retained  the  one  that 
he  had  appropriated,  together  with  his  Indian  cos- 
tume, in  the  Wyandot  camp.  With  this,  then,  Bul- 
len  started  a  fire,  and  finding  a  broken  iron  pot  in 
the  debris  of  the  camp,  cleaned  it  and  set  some  water 
to  boil. 

In  the  meantime  Donald,  armed  with  the  fish- 
spear  that  he  had  taken  from  the  young  Indian  the 
night  before,  succeeded,  within  an  hour,  in  killing  a 
large  fish,  and  a  raccoon  that  he  discovered  digging 
for  mussels  on  the  beach. 

When    he    returned    with    his    trophies,    BuUen 


/ 


IMMINENT  DANGER  OF  THE  SCHOONER  GLADWYN  237 


greeted  him  with  a  joyous  shout.  "  See  what  I 
have  found ! "  he  cried,  at  the  same  time  holding 
up  a  small  object  that  proved  to  be  a  cake  of  scented 
soap.  It  was  one  of  a  number  that  he  had  presented 
to  the  ladies  when  there  before,  and  now  it  seemed 
to  him  even  more  precious  than  the  welcome  food 
procured  by  his  companion. 

After  a  hearty  meal,  that  seemed  to  them  one  of 
the  best  they  had  ever  tasted,  in  spite  of  the  crude- 
ness  of  its  preparation,  the  little  man  treated  himself 
to  a  bath  in  the  lake,  which  he  declared  to  be  almost 
as  good  as  a  tub,  after  all.  Before  he  emerged  from 
it,  he  had  succeeded,  with  the  aid  of  his  new-found 
treasure,  in  removing  the  last  traces  of  savage  paint 
from  his  body. 

Then  they  discussed  their  situation  and  decided 
to  make  an  effort  to  reach  Detroit  travelling  only 
by  night,  and  concealing  themselves  during  the  hours 
of  daylight.  They  slept  for  the  greater  part  of  tliat 
day;  and  when,  shortly  before  sunset,  Donald  visited 
the  highest  point  of  the  island  to  scan  the  horizon  in 
search  of  possible  enemies,  he  had  the  bitter  disap- 
pointment of  seeing  a  distant  sail,  that  must  have 
passed  close  by  the  island,  heading  for  tlie  mouth  of 
the  Detroit  river.  It  was  the  schooner  that  Gladwyn 
had  sent  to  hasten  Cuyler's  movements,  returning 
from  the  Niagara  with  the  remnant  of  that  expedi- 
tion, and  other  reinforcements  for  the  beleaguered 
post. 


% 


i  1 


I. 


1 


j 

1 

i       i 

t 

1 

! 

' 

238 


AT   WAR   WITH  TONTIAC 


"  If  we  had  only  kept  watch  I "  he  remarked  to  his 
companion,  when  telling  him  of  what  he  had  seen. 

"  Yes,  if  we  only  had ! " 

If  they  had,  and  had  succeeded  in  gaining  the 
vessel,  it  would  probably  never  have  reached  Detroit; 
they,  and  every  soul  on  board,  would  probably  have 
been  killed,  and  the  whole  course  of  events  in  that 
section  of  country  would  have  been  changed.  Even 
as  it  was,  the  schooner  was  in  most  imminent  dan- 
ger ;  for  her  coming  had  been  anticipated  by  Pontiac 
as  well  as  by  the  garrison  at  Detroit,  and  every  prep- 
aration known  to  that  warlike  chief  had  been  made 
for  her  capture. 

As  she  entered  the  river  her  every  movement  was 
watched  by  hundreds  of  gleaming  eyes  from  the 
wooded  banks,  and  when,  with  the  dying  out  of  the 
breeze,  she  was  forced  to  drop  anchor,  it  was  with 
difficulty  that  the  impatient  warriors  were  persuaded 
from  making  an  attack  then  and  there. 


CHAPTER  XXXI 


PONTIAC    RECOGNIZES  THE    TOTEM 

The  vexatious  calm  lasted  for  two  days.  During 
this  time  the  schooner  Q-ladwi/n  caught  only  such 
puffs  of  wind  as  carried  her  a  few  miles  up  the  liver, 
and  left  her  again  anchored  in  the  very  narrowest 
part  of  the  channel,  still  some  ten  miles  below  the 
fort.  No  sign  of  human  presence  had  been  discovered 
by  those  on  board,  no  sound  came  from  the  solemn 
forests.  Shy  water-fowl  swam  fearlessly  on  the  un- 
ruffled current  that  gurgled  against  the  schooner's 
bow,  and  for  aught  their  senses  could  discover,  her 
people  might  have  been  the  sole  occupants  of  that 
beautiful,  treacherous  wilderness. 

At  sunset  the  distant  boom  of  a  heavy  gun  cheered 
their  hearts  with  the  knowledge  that  Detroit  still 
held  out,  and  redoubled  their  desire  to  gain  its  safe 
haven  after  their  tedious  voyage.  Officers  and  men 
walked  the  deck  impatiently,  and  searched  the  sky  for 
wind  clouds,  while  the  sailors  whistled  shrilly  for  a 
breeze.  But  none  came  and  the  night  descended  calm, 
dark,  and  still.  As  the  slow  hours  dragged  themselves 
away,  the  ship's  company,  weary  of  the  monotony  of 
their  watch,  sought  their  sleeping  places,  or  found 

239 


1i-; 


h 
1|. 


T 


240 


AT  WAR  WITH  PONTIAC 


such  scant  comfort  as  the  decks  afforded,  until  of 
them  all  only  the  sentry  was  awake. 

Still  the  schooner  was  not  unprepared  for  an 
attack.  Her  broadside  guns  were  loaded  to  the 
muzzle  with  grape  and  musket  balls.  Every  man 
on  board  was  arme^^,  even  as  he  slept,  and  her  only 
danger  lay  in  beim^  b  .  -ded  by  an  overwhelming 
number  of  the  enemj  ipuusst  whom  the  heavy  guns 
would  thus  be  rendered  ineil  tive.  But  the  night 
wore  on,  and  he  made  no  sign.  The  sentry  relieved 
at  midnight  reported  no  caiise  for  alarm.  The  one 
who  went  off  duty  two  hours  later  gave  a  similar 
assurance  of  continued  safety.  His  successor  yawned 
sleepily  as  he  paced  to  and  fro,  and  shivered  with 
the  chill  that  had  crept  into  the  night.  A  slight 
mist  was  rising  from  the  water,  and  through  it  even 
the  black  outline  of  the  forest  was  undistinguishable. 
As  nothing  could  be  seen,  the  sentry  gave  over  his 
pacing,  and,  leaning  against  the  foremast,  devoted 
himself  to  listening.  He  even  closed  his  eyes  to 
improve  his  hearing,  and  so  stood  half  musing,  half 
dreaming  of  his  distant  English  home,  until,  sud- 
denly from  out  of  the  blackness,  there  rang  a  shout 
of  warning.  It  was  instantly  followed  by  another,  and 
a  confused  tumult  on  the  water  at  no  great  distance. 

As  the  startled  sentr}^  echoed  the  alarm  and 
sprang  to  the  bulwarks,  he  caught  a  glimpse  of  mov- 
ing objects  sweeping  down  on  the  slumbering  vessel. 
In  another  mii^ute  the  enemy  would  have  swarmed 


PONTIAC   RECOGNIZES  THE  TOTEM 


241 


irresistibly  over  her  sides,  and  her  fate  wouhl  have 
been  sealed.  But,  ere  half  that  time  had  elapsed, 
there  burst  from  her  such  a  blaze  of  cannon  and 
musketry  that  the  night  was  illumined  as  though  by 
a  flash  of  lightning.  The  schooner  trembled  to  her 
keel  with  the  concussion.  The  advancing  canoes 
were  so  torn  and  riddled,  by  the  hail  of  grape  and 
bullets,  that  several  of  them  sank,  a  sc^/re  of  their 
occupants  were  killed,  many  more  were  wounded, 
and  the  survivors  fled  in  consternation  t  oh'>  shore. 
From  there,  behind  a  breastwork  of  logs,  ♦^he;;  pened 
a  harmless  fire  that  was  quickly  siL  otd  by  the 
schooner's  guns.  Soon  afterwards,  a  fiivo  mg  breeze 
springing  up,  she  weighed  anchor  and  :^  Je  lier  way 
in  safety  to  the  fort,  to  which  she  brought  not  only 
reinforcements  of  troops,  but  a  supply  of  ammuni- 
tion and  provisions,  without  which  the  garrison  must 
speedily  have  surrendered. 

On  the  very  night  of  all  these  happenings,  the 
canoe  containing  Donald  Hester  and  Paymaster 
BuUen  entered  the  Detroit  river,  and  began  to  stem 
its  swift  current,  moving  silently  and  in  blackest 
shadows.  Hoping  to  run  the  long  gantlet  of  tlie 
channels,  and  reach  the  fort  before  daylight,  they 
strained  every  nerve  to  the  attainment  of  this  pur- 
pose. They,  too,  had  heard  the  defiant  boom  of  the 
distant  sunset  gun,  announcing  to  all  the  forest  world 
that  Detroit  was  still  held  for  England's  king,  and 
the  sound  gave  them  a  new  courage. 


11*1 
'lit 


i 


♦! 


I. 

i 


■/■^L 


242 


AT   WAR   WITH   PONTIAC 


i      . 


They  had  paddled  for  hours,  and  knew  that  mid- 
night must  be  long  past,  when,  without  the  warning 
of  sight  or  sound,  they  suddenly  discovered  their 
craft  to  be  surrounded  by  moving  shadows.  These 
were  canoes  headed  across  the  stream,  and  instantly 
Donald  turned  his  craft  in  the  same  direction,  as 
though  it  belonged  to  the  ghostly  fleet.  It  was  a 
terrible  situation,  and  one  in  which  the  slightest  mis- 
take would  prove  fatal.  Donald  noticed  Bullen's 
start  on  the  discovery  of  their  danger,  and  blessed 
him  for  the  coolness  with  which  ho  continued  the 
noiseless  dip  of  his  paddle.  His  hope  was  to  work 
toward  the  outer  edge  of  the  fleet,  and  then  slip 
away  in  the  mist-clouds  that  were  rising  thinly  from 
the  water  before  the  other  side  of  the  river  should 
be  reached.  At  the  same  time  he  wondered  where 
these  canoes  could  have  come  from,  and  what  was 
the  cause  of  their  mysterious  movements ;  for,  think- 
ing that  the  schooner  he  had  seen  two  days  before 
must  long  since  have  reached  the  fort,  it  did  not 
occur  to  him  that  she  could  be  the  object  of  attrac- 
tion. 

BuUen  was  the  first  to  see  it.  With  a  choking 
gasp  he  leaned  back  and  whispered  hoarsely,  "The 
schooner !     We  must  warn  them !  " 

"  Certainly,"  replied  Donald,  promptly,  as  though 
it  were  a  matter  of  course  that  they  should  sacrifice 
themselves  to  save  their  friends.  Then  he  raised 
a  shout  so  loud  and  far-reaching  that  it  seemed  as 


PONTIAC  RECOQNIZi:S  TIIK  TOTEM 


S48 


though  it  must  be  heard  even  at  the  distant  fort. 
It  was  instantly  echoed  by  another  from  BuUen. 
Then  an  Indian  canoe  crashed  into  theirs,  and  in  a 
moment  they  were  struggling  with  half  a  dozen  infu- 
riated savages.  Ere  the  struggle  was  concluded, 
there  came  a  blaze  of  fire,  a  crash  of  thunder,  the 
rending  of  wood,  shrieks,  and  yells.  To  Donald 
also  came  oblivion ;  while  BuUen  tii-st  found  himself 
in  the  water,  then  dragged  from  it  into  a  canoe,  and 
a  moment  later  a  helplessly  bound  captive  at  the 
morcy  of  an  enraged  foe. 

The  failure  of  his  carefully  planned  attack  on  the 
schooner  was  a  bitter  blow^  to  Pontiac,  the  haughty 
chieftain,  who  was  striving  to  drive  the  red-coated 
invaders  from  the  land  still  claimed  by  his  people. 
The  prize  for  which  he  had  schemed  and  fought  so 
long  had  been  within  his  grasp  only  to  be  snatched 
away  at  the  last  moment.  Already  had  his  war- 
parties  captured  all  the  British  posts  west  of  the 
Niagara  save  only  Detroit  and  Fort  Pitt.  Already 
was  the  crimson  wave  of  war  lapping  the  frontier 
settlements,  and  driving  them  back.  Thus  far  his 
warriors  had  been  everywhere  victorious,  and  this 
was  their  first  repulse.  Could  he  have  captured  that 
schooner  with  all  that  it  contained,  and  turned  its 
guns  against  the  slight  defences  of  Detroit,  that 
place  must  speedily  have  fallen.  Then,  with  his 
entire  force,  he  would  have  been  free  to  sweep 
resistlessly  down   the  Alleghany  to  lower  the  last 


i 


; 


it 
f 


i!i 


214 


AT    WAR    WITH    roNTIAC 


i  I 


ICnglisli  flag  west  of  the  mountains.  But  liis  certain 
victory  had  been  turned  into  disaster  by  a  cry  of 
warning  from  the  very  midst  of  the  attacking  fleet. 
It  was  incredible  I  Who  had  uttered  tliat  cry? 
Wliat  had  come  over  his  warriors,  tiiat  such  a  thing 
couhl  be  possible  ?  In  his  rage,  Pontiac  ordered  tliat 
the  prisoners  Ix)  securely  guarded  until  ho  could  in- 
vent some  punislnnent  adequate  to  their  offence. 
Should  they  escape,  it  sliould  be  meted  out  to  their 
guards.  Then,  too,  let  the  warrioi's  who  had  ad- 
mitted those  white  men  to  their  ranks  look  to  them- 
selves ;  for  if  any  were  found  who  had  played  traitor, 
their  fate  should  be  such  that  for  generations  the 
mere  telling  of  it  would  chill  tlie  blood  of  all  hearers. 
Thus  spake  Pontiac ,  and  the  forest  warriors  trem- 
bled before  the  wrath  of  their  mighty  chief. 

On  the  following  day  he  sat  moodily  in  his  lodge 
on  a  small  island  at  the  head  of  the  river,  whither  lie 
was  accustomed  to  retreat  for  quiet  and  meditation. 
Only  his  favorite  daughter  was  with  liim,  and  she 
was  striving  in  vain  to  find  words  of  comfort  that 
should  banish  the  dark  cloud  from  his  face.  To  this 
place,  according  to  his  order,  were  brought  th.e  pris- 
oners who  had  defeated  his  plan  of  attack  on  the 
schooner,  that  he  might  pronounce  judgment  upon 
them.  One  lay  on  the  ground  before  the  entrance 
to  the  lodge,  covered  with  blood  and  apparently  life- 
less, while  the  other,  clad  in  a  tattered  blanket  and 
tightly  bound,  stood  dejectedly  beside  him. 


I 


■'{ 


PONTIAC  DISCOVERS   THAT    DONALD    IS   TATTOOED   WTTi)    Tlit  MAGIC 

CIRCLE. 


j>>'I 


m 


fVi 


I'     : 


^ 


\ 


I 


PONTIAC   RECOGNIZES  THE  TOTEM 


245 


"  Why  bring  ye  dead  men  to  this  place  ? "  de- 
manded Pontiac,  spurning  the  prostrate  form  with 
his  foot.  "  Take  the  scalp,  and  throw  the  body  to 
the  fishes.'' 

"He  is  not  dead.  He  still  breathes,"  answered 
one  of  the  warriors  who  had  brought  the  prisoners. 

"It  mattei-s  not.     Still  do  as  I  said." 

As  the  warrior  drew  his  scalping-knife  and  stooped 
to  obey,  the  Indian  girl,  leaning  forward  to  obtain 
a  better  view  of  him  whose  case  was  thus  summarily 
disposed,  uttered  a  cry  of  dismay,  grasped  the  war- 
rior's arm,  and  spoke  a  few  hurried  words  to  her 
father. 

The  great  chief  started,  drew  his  own  knife,  and 
knelt  beside  the  unconscious  form.  The  other  Indians 
imagined  he  was  about  to  slay  the  youth  with  his 
own  hand,  and  thus  avenge  the  grievous  injury 
inflicted  upon  their  cause.  Instead  of  so  doing,  Pon- 
tiac merely  slit  open  the  sleeve  of  Donald's  hunting- 
shirt,  and  gazed  intently  for  a  moment  at  the  mark 
thus  disclosed.  His  stern  face  grew  almost  tender 
with  the  remembrance  of  the  laughing  child  who 
had  saved  his  own  life  so  many  years  before.  Then 
rising,  and  turning  to  his  warriors,  he  said:  — 

"  He  is  of  the  Totem  of  the  Bear,  and  is  sealed 
with  the  symbol  of  the  magic  circle.  We  may  not 
kill  him ;  for  he  is  favored  of  the  Great  Spirit. 
Lift  him  within  the  lodge,  and  keep  to  yourselves 
the  secret  of  his  presence  in  this  place. 


■f 


rH 


'J  t 


'  « 


mtattmiiammigi 


mm 


1 


n 


\  i 


II 

ii 


246 


AT  WAR   WITH  PONTIAC 


"  As  for  this  other,"  —  here  he  gazed  sternly  at 
poor  BuUen,  who,  while  rejoicing  that  the  mystical 
marking  on  his  friend's  aim  seemed  about  to  do  him 
good  service  once  more,  wished  he  knew  what  was 
to  be  his  own  fate.  "  As  for  this  other,"  repeated 
Pontiac,  "this  hairless  dog  of  an  Englishman,  take 
him  to  the  Ottawa  village,  and  deliver  him  to  the 
tormentors,  nor  ever  let  me  set  eyes  on  him  again." 

Thus  saying,  the  chieftain,  whose  commands  none 
dared  disobey,  entered  the  lodge  whither  Donald 
had  been  tenderly  conveyed,  and  where  the  chief's 
daughter  was  already  bathing  his  wounds. 

Then  the  others  seized  tlr:  little  paymaster,  hurried 
him  to  the  canoe  in  which  he  had  been  brought,  and 
departed  with  all  speed  for  the  Ottawa  village,  which 
was  located  near  the  river  bank  some  two  miles  above 
the  ic^rt.  Here  the  arrival  of  the  prisoner,  and  the 
announcement  of  the  sentence  passed  upon  him,  was 
received  with  yells  of  approval  and  every  manifesta- 
tion of  savage  joy.  But  there  were  some  who  shook 
their  heads  dubiously.  They  were  of  the  war-party 
recently  returned  from  Presque  Isle ;  and,  recalling 
the  marvellous  things  done  by  tliis  white  medicine 
man,  they  Vvere  still  fearful  of  his  power.  The 
majority,  however,  paid  slight  attention  to  these 
croakers,  ^.nd  the  work  of  preparation  for  the  forth- 
coming spectacle  was  pushed  with  eager  haste. 


CHAPTER  XXXII 

LAST  CRUISE  OF  THE  PAYMASTER'S  TUB 


»> 


While  the  preparations  for  Paymaster  Bullen's 
martyrdom  were  in  progress,  his  bonds  were  removed, 
and  he  was  supplied  with  food  that  he  might  gain 
strength  the  longer  to  endure  the  proposed  torture. 
He  was  allowed  to  sit  in  the  shade  of  a  tree,  where 
he  was  guarded  by  two  stalwart  warriors,  not  so  much 
to  prevent  his  escape,  as  to  restrain  the  inquisitive 
spectators  who  thronged  about  him.  These  were 
roused  to  such  a  pitch  of  fury  at  the  sight  of  one 
who  had  frustrated  their  long-cherished  plan  for  cap- 
turing the  schooner,  that,  had  they  been  allowed,  they 
would  have  torn  him  in  pieces.  Many  of  these  were 
women,  who  mocked  at  and  reviled  the  unfortunate 
Englishman,  screaming  like  so  many  furies,  spitting 
at  him,  and  gloating  over  his  miserable  plight,  as  is 
the  custom  of  a  certain  grade  of  womankind  all  over 
the  world.  Inspired  by  the  example  of  their  elders, 
a  swarm  of  impish  children  added  their  shrill  cries  to 
the  tumult,  let  fly  an  occasional  blunt-headed  arrow 
at  the  helpless  captive,  or  darted  between  the  legs  of 
the  guards  in  their  efforts  to  strike  him.  Finally  the 
exasperated  warriors  turned  on  this  petty  rabble  and 
with  stern  words  bade  them  begone. 

247 


:  I 


I:  II 


■i  • 


■  i 

if : 


248 


AT    WAR   WITH  TONTIAC 


i1 


Others  came  for  a  look  at  the  prisoner  while  hs  ate, 
and  among  them  he  recognized  the  Zebra.  This  man 
he  addressed  in  English,  asking  Iiim  what  was  to  be 
his  fate,  but  the  Indian  only  laughed  and  turned 
away.  Then  came  the  young  warrior  whom  he  and 
Donald  had  thrown  overboard  a  few  nights  before, 
other  members  of  the  party  with  which  he  had  trav- 
elled to  Presque  Isle,  ard  still  others  whom  he  recog- 
nized, until  it  seemed  as  though  every  Indian  he  had 
ever  seen  had  come  to  witness  his  execution. 

He  knew  it  was  to  be  an  execution,  and  that  he  had 
naught  in  prospect  save  death;  but  he  hoped  this 
mi jht  come  speedily,  and  that  in  whatever  shape  it 
approached,  he  might  be  given  strength  to  meet  it  as 
became  one  of  his  race  and  position.  He  had  heard 
his  branch  of  the  service  spoken  of  lightly  because 
physical  courage  was  not  supposed  to  be  among  its 
requirements.  Now  he  was  to  be  given  the  oppor- 
tunity for  proving  that  a  staff  o^v-er  could  die  as 
bravely  as  one  of  the  lin-j.  If  onU  jhey  would  not 
burn  him  to  death,  as  had  been  threatened.  It  seemed 
as  though  he  could  bear  anything  elae,  but  that  was 
too  horrible. 

His  melancholy  reflections  were  interrupted  by  the 
passing  of  a  noisy  group  surrounding  two  who  bore 
some  burden.  As  they  neared  him,  BuUen  saw  with 
aniiiztjinient  that  it  was  the  bath-tub  of  which  he  had 
beeii  so  proud,  which  had  been  the  source  of  so  much 
puvuidro,  in  which  he  had  suffered,  and  the  loss  of 


LAST  CRUISE  OF  THE  PAYMASTER'S  TUB        249 


which  had  been  a  source  of  genuine  grief.  It  had 
evidently  been  retained  by  the  Indians  as  a  novel 
trophy,  and  was  as  evidently  to  be  connected  in  some 
manner  with  his  approaching  fate.  The  tub  was  car- 
ried beyond  his  sight,  and  a  few  minutes  later  he  was 
led  to  the  end  of  a  long,  narrow  lane,  bordered  by 
two  living  walls  of  human  beings.  Then  he  knew 
that  he  was  to  undergo  the  terrible  ordeal  of  the 
gantlet,  which  had  been  so  often  described  to  him 
that  he  felt  familiar  with  all  its  sickening  details. 

The  entire  population  of  the  village  was  ranged 
in  two  parallel  rows  facing  each  other,  and  all  were 
armed  with  sticks,  clubs,  dog-whips  or  some  similar 
weapon  with  which  to  strike  at  the  poor  wretch  who 
would  be  forced  to  run  for  his  life  down  the  dreary 
lane. 

As  BuUen  faced  this  ordeal  he  recalled  how  other 
men  had  acted  under  similar  circumstances.  Some 
had  been  beaten  to  death  ere  completing  half  the 
course ;  while  others  had  been  so  fleet  of  foot  as  to 
escape  almost  unhurt.  One,  he  remembered,  was  a 
tall  man  of  such  strength  and  agility  that  1  snatched 
a  club  from  the  nearest  Indian  at  the  iuoment  of 
starting  and  brandished  it  with  such  effect  as  he 
ran  that  no  one  dared  strike  him. 

But  the  paymaster  was  neither  tall,  nor  strong,  nor 
agile.  He  was  short  and  stout.  As  for  running,  he 
had  not  done  such  a  thing  since  he  was  a  child,  ror 
even  then  that  he  could  remember.     Now  it  would 


'•'fi 


M 


250 


AT   WAR    WITH   I'ONTIAC 


certainly  kill  him  to  run  for  even  a  short  distance, 
while  he  would  as  certainly  be  killed  if  he  did  not 
run.  The  little  man  was  in  despair  ;  it  was  so  pitiful 
and  mean  a  fate  to  be  beaten  to  death  with  clubs  like 
a  mad  dog  —  oh !  if  he  only  were  one,  how  he  would 
scatter  that  throng  of  howling  savages.  With  this 
thougxit  an  inspiration  came  to  him  like  a  ray  of 
sunlight  piercing  the  blackness  of  a  dungeon.  He 
felt  among  the  inner  folds  of  his  ragged  blanket, 
withdrew  a  small  object  and  thrust  it  into  his  mouth. 
A  second  later  the  blanket  was  snatched  from  his 
body  leaving  him  clad  only  in  a  breech  clout,  and 
he  was  given  a  pujsh  into  the  lane  as  a  hint  that 
his  time  for  running  had  come. 

A  hush  of  expectancy  fell  upon  the  eager  throng, 
and  each  grasped  his  stick  more  firmly  with  the 
resolve  to  have  at  least  one  good  cut  at  that  bald- 
headed  white  man  as  he  ran  or  staggered  past,  "^^he 
first  one  on  the  right,  who  happened  to  be  the  Zebra, 
lifted  a  switch  and  struck  the  paj^master  a  smart 
though  not  a  cruel  blow  across  the  shoulders  as  an 
intimation  that  Lhe  fun  had  begun. 

The  first  one  on  the  left,  a  burly  black-browed 
giant  who  Lcited  r,  1  white  men  with  a  bitter  hatred, 
raised  a  l^eavy  (lub  yith  a  vicious  swing.  Ere  it 
could  descend  i>alJei3  sprang  at  him  and  blew  from 
his  mouth  a  ch  d  ot  froth  full  in  the  giant's  face. 
The  latt'jr  staggv  "ed  ba.ck,  dropped  his  club,  clapped 
both  h  iiids  to  his  eyes  and  uttered  a  yell  of  terror. 


LAST  CRUISE   OF   THE   TAYM ASTER'S  TUB 


251 


and 


Then  the  little  man  folded  his  arms  and  walked  com- 
posedly down  the  long  lane,  making  a  snarling,  gur- 
gling noise  in  his  throat  and  frothing  at  the  mouth 
as  though  he  had  indeed  been  smitten  with  the 
peculiar  form  of  madness  for  which  he  had  just 
wished. 

A  great  fear  fell  on  the  assemblage  as  one  and  all 
recalled  the  tales  of  this  white  man's  magic  power. 
Not  a  hand  was  lifted  against  him  as  he  passed,  and 
the  awe-stricken  savages  drew  back  at  his  approach 
as  though  he  had  been  plague-stricken.  So  he  made 
his  unmolested  way  to  the  very  end  of  the  lane,  his 
enemies  parting  before  him,  but  crowding  behind 
and  following  him  with  an  eager  curiosity. 

At  length  he  paused  and  gazed  with  mingled 
horror  and  rage  at  something  that  barred  his  further 
progress.  On  two  logs,  between  which  burned  a 
small  fire,  was  set  his  own  bath-tub.  The  water  with 
which  it  was  half  filled  was  just  beginning  to  simmer, 
and  near  at  hand  was  a  pile  of  dry  wood  cut  into 
short  lengths.  In  an  instant  the  awful  meaning  of 
these  preparations  flashed  across  his  mind.  They 
intended  to  boil  him  alive  I  For  a  moment  he  felt 
sick  and  dizzy.  All  things  spun  in  a  mad  whirl 
before  his  blurred  vision,  and  he  feared  his  senses 
were  departing.  Recovering  himself  by  a  supreme 
effort  of  will,  and  animated  by  an  access  of  fury,  he 
sprang  forward,  overturned  the  tub,  so  that  its  con- 
tents were  ^joured  on  the  hissing  flames,  instantly 


I  i- 


!ji 


mm 


i;       '.: 


li 


It 


!■ 


AT  WAR   WITH   PONl'lAC 

extinguishing  them,  and  hurled  ic  to  one  side.  Then 
clearing  his  mouth  of  the  last  of  the  frothy  matter 
which  had  been  produced  by  chewing  a  bit  of  soap, 
the  little  man  turned  and  confronted  his  tormentors. 

Angry  murmurs  rose  among  them  and  deepened 
into  a  confused  clamor.  Some  were  for  killing  him 
at  once,  but  the  majority  dared  not.  Neither  were 
thty  willing  that  he  should  go  free,  no;  was  one 
found  bold  enough  to  adopt  him  as  husband,  brother, 
or  son,  as  by  Indian  custom  any  had  the  right  to  do 
who  felt  so  inclined.  The  discussion  was  finally 
ended  by  the  black-browed  giant  who  had  been  the 
object  of  Builen's  attiick  and  who  still  smarted  from 
tlie  indignity.  Silencing  the  clamor,  with  an  authori- 
tative voice,  he  proposed  a  plan  that  was  unanimously 
adopted. 

A  minute  later  another  white  man,  whom  to  his 
amazemei  ^  the  paymaster  recognized  as  his  long  lost 
"Tummas,"  was  dragged  and  pushed  through  the 
throng.  In  his  hands  he  bore  several  pots  of  paint 
and  a  number  of  rude  brushes.  Now  he  was  ordered 
to  begin  work  at  once  on  his  former  master  and  dec- 
orate hira  in  the  highest  style  of  savage  art. 

"  Oh  Lawk,  Muster  Bullen !  To  think  we  should 
bever  liii  come  to  this,"  gasped  the  trembling  man 
as  he  prepared  to  obey  this  mandate.  "  Hi  opes  has 
you  won't  lay  it  hup  against  me,  sir,  if  Hi  do  as 
Ki'm  bid :  for  ii  Hi  dont  jump  spry  the  creeters  will 
kill  me,  'deed  they  will,  sir." 


!  i 


LAST  CRUISE  OF   THE   PAYMASTER'S  TUB        263 

"  Tummas»"  answered  the  little  man,  severely, 
"  since  you  seem  to  have  accepted  service  with  those 
heathen  savages,  it  becomes  you  to  do  their  bidding 
without  hesitation;  but  I  never  expected  to  see  a 
respectable  English  valet  sink  so  low,  I  certainly 
never  did." 

"  Oh  Lawk,  Muster  Bullen  I  Hi  opes,  sir,  as  you 
don't  think  Hi've  done  such  a  think  of  my  hown 
free  will.  No,  sir.  Hindeed  Hi  'aven't:  but  Hi'm 
compelled,  sir.  Hi  'as  to  paint  'em  and  likewise 
shave  their  'eads  and  look  after  their  nasty  'air. 
Yes,  sir,  and  many  a  think  besides  that  you  wouldn't 
believe.  But  some  day  Hi'U  pizen  'em,  sir,  or  spif- 
licate  'em  in  their  sleep,  the  hopportunity  for  which 
is  the  honly  pleasure  in  life  Hi  'as  to  look  forward 
to,  sir." 

As  "  Tummas  "  uttered  these  fierce  words  he  drew 
several  vicious  streaks  of  red  across  thr  paymastfir's 
body,  for  he  was  already  hard  at  work  at  his  unwel- 
come task. 

So  by  the  liberal  application  of  pigments  and 
feathers,  poor  Bullen  was  once  more  got  up  in  savage 
guise.  Then  he  was  bound  hand  and  foot  so  that 
he  could  not  move,  gagged  so  that  he  could  utter  no 
sound,  placed  in  his  once  beloved,  but  now  hated  tub, 
borne  to  the  water's  edge,  and  set  afloat  on  the  swift 
current,  followed  by  derisive  yells  from  his  enemies. 

That  same  afternoon  Major  Gladwyn,  who  was 
standing  on  one  of  tlie  water  bastions  of  Fort  Detroit, 


1  <i 


ill 


SM 


AT   WAR   WITH    PONTIAC 


in  company  with  a  lady,  descried  a  suspicious  object 
floating  down  the  river  and  called  for  a  spy-glass. 
Gazing  intently  through  it,  he  exclaimed :  "  Pon  my 
soul,  madam,  I  believe  we  are  here  just  in  time  to 
interrupt  another  attempt  of  those  villanous  redskins 
to  destroy  my  schooners.  They  have  already  tried 
fire-rafts  and  other  infernal  devices  without  number, 
but  always  at  night.  Now,  if  Tm  not  mistaken,  they 
have  the  audacity  to  try  again  in  broad  daylight, 
thinking  no  doubt  to  catch  us  napping.  But  Til 
teach  them  that  we  are  wide  awake  at  all  hours. 
That  is  certainly  an  Indian  in  full  paint  and  feathers, 
though  what  he  is  floating  on  I  can't  make  out. 
Orderly,  bring  me  my  long  range  rifle  —  will  you 
take  this  glass,  madam,  and  watch  the  effect  of  my 
shot?  It  may  prove  interesting  as  well  as  pleasing 
after  your  recent  terrible  experience." 

By  the  time  Madam  Rothsay  succeeded  in  focus- 
ing the  glass  on  the  approaching  object.  Major  Glad- 
wyn  was  carefully  sighting  ^.ib  rifle. 

Suddenly  she  uttered  a  cry  of  dismay.  "  For 
Heaven's  sake,  don't  fire,  major!  It  is  poor,  dear 
Paymaster  Bullen.  At  least  that  is  his  tub ;  and  he 
was  arrayed  in  that  very  same  remarkable  costume 
the  last  time  I  saw  him." 

"  Impossible,  madam !  An  officer  in  His  Majesty's 
service  I  " 

"  Indeed,  it  is  possible,  major ;  and  I  beg  you 
to  send  out   a  boat.      Fill   it  with   armed  men,   if 


LAST  CRUISE  OF  THE   TAYMASTEU'S  TUFJ        26r) 

you  like ;  but  I  beg  and  implore  you  not  to  act 
hastily." 

Only  half  convinced  that  he  waa  acting  prudently, 
Major  Gladwyn  yielded  to  Madam  Rothsay's  plead- 
ings, and  did  as  she  suggested.  To  make  sure  that 
no  mistakes  were  committed,  he  accompanied  the 
boat,  with  his  rifle,  loaded  and  cocked,  held  eady 
for  instant  use. 

A  few  minutes  later,  the  tub  with  its  helpless 
occupant  was  cautiously  towed  to  the  shore  ;  but  not 
until  the  gag  was  removed  from  his  mouth,  and  they 
heard  the  little  paymaster's  fervent  "  Thank  God !  " 
could  either  the  major  or  his  soldiers  believe  that 
their  prize  was  a  white  man. 

As  he  landed  and  his  bonds  were  loo.ied,  the  new- 
comer turned  and  thrust  his  hated  tub  out  into  the 
stream  with  such  savage  energy  that  the  water  ]ioured 
over  its  side,  it  filled,  and,  with  a  gurgling  rush  of 
air-bubbles,  sank  beneath  the  swift  current. 

Then  the  little  man's  overtaxed  strength  gave 
way.  He  took  a  few  uncertain  steps,  tried  to  apol- 
ogize, reeled,  and  fell  limply  into  the  arn)s  of  the 
nearest  bystander,  who  happened  to  be  Madam 
Rothsay  herself. 


:'  i 


t 


■  Pi 


^  \r  ^ 


■> 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


^/' 


4' 


/. 


^ 


M 

11.25 


■50     ^^ 

itt  12,2 

£f   LS    12.0 


2.2 


HiotDgraphic 
.Sciences 
Corporation 


23  WIST  MAIN  STRliT 

wiBSTiR.N.Y.  ;4sm 

(7I«)  •72-4503 


i 


:il 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 

PORT  DETROIT  IS  REINFORCED 

From  the  very  first  the  two  tribes  of  Wyandots 
and  Pottawattamies  had  been  but  lukewarm  allies  of 
the  Ottawas  in  the  prosecution  of  this  war.  Their 
ctiefs  were  jealous  of  Pontiac  and  yielded  obedience 
to  his  orders  rather  through  fear  than  from  any  real 
loyalty  to  his  cause.  Still,  so  long  as  his  plans  were 
successful,  his  arms  victorious,  and  his  appc  ared  to 
be  the  winning  side,  they  were  content  to  follow  his 
leadership.  No  sooner,  however,  did  the  tide  of  fort- 
une turn  against  him  with  the  fa  ilure  of  his  attempt 
to  capture  the  schooner,  than  these  tribes  sent  a 
deputation  of  chiefs  to  Gladwj'n  with  proposals  for 
peace.  This  was  granted  them  and  the  treaty  was 
consummated  by  a  general  exchange  of  prisoners. 

It  was  owing  to  Pontiac's  distrust  of  these  allies, 
to  whom  had  been  intrusted  the  attack  on  Cuyler's  ex- 
pedition, that  he  had  secretly  sent  Ah-mo  and  Atoka 
to  provide  for  the  safety  of  Edith  Hester,  rightly  think- 
ing that  they  could  act  more  effectively  than  a  larger 
party  and  at  the  same  time  attract  less  notice.  How 
they  succeeded  in  conveying  their  charge  to  an  island 
on  which  was  maintained  a  picket  of  Ottawa  warriors, 
has  already  been  told. 

266 


PORT  DETROIT  IS  REINFORCED 


267 


This  picket  post  was  a  source  of  griev:\nce  to  the 
Wyandots,  who,  dwelling  nearest  the  mouth  of  the 
river,  claimed  that  they  alone  were  entitled  to  occupy 
that  territory  and  guard  its  approaches.  After  their 
victory  over  Cuyler,  they  protested  so  loudly  against 
the  continuation  of  the  Ottawa  outpost  on  their 
island,  that  Pontiac  reluctantly  ordered  it  to  be  with- 
drawn, and  the  captives  who  were  held  there  to  be 
brought  to  his  own  village. 

Thus  it  happened  that  to  these  Indians  was  left 
the  entire  guarding  of  the  southern  approaches  to 
Detroit;  and  when,  at  the  end  of  July,  a  strong 
detachment  of  troops  in  twenty-two  bateaux,  under 
command  of  Captain  Dalzell,  appeared  at  the  mouth 
of  the  river,  they  having  just  concluded  their  treaty 
of  peace,  allowed  it  to  pass  up  unmolested.  The 
flotilla  came  up  at  night;  and  at  sunrise,  as  the  sea 
of  fog  covering  the  vicinity  of  Detroit  began  to  roll 
away  in  fleecy  masses,  its  foremost  boats  were  discov- 
ered by  a  sentinel,  who  ai  once  announced  the  joy- 
ful intelligence.  As  before,  the  beleaguered  garrison 
hastened  to  the  water  front  in  anxious  expectancy. 
Were  the  approaching  boats  indeed  filled  with  friends 
come  to  their  relief,  or,  as  in  the  former  case,  with  vic- 
torious savages  and  dejected  captives  ?  Not  until  the 
questioning  salute  of  their  guns  was  answered  by 
the  glad  roar  of  a  swivel  from  the  foremost  beat  was 
the  query  answered,  and  the  apprehensions  of  the 
war-worn  garrison  changed  to  a  joyous  certainty. 


1 


i 

i 


■  J 


1 


mem 


\) 


ill: 


258 


AT   WAR    WITH   rONTIAC^ 


All  at  once  their  rejoicings  were  silenced  by  a 
double  sheet  of  fire  that  leaped  from  both  banks  of 
the  river  at  once.  A  hail  of  bullets  was  poured  into 
the  crowded  boats  from  among  the  buildings  and  or- 
chards of  the  French  farmei-s,  and  many  a  red-coated 
soldier  fell  beneath  the  fire  of  a  foe  whom  he  could 
neither  see  nor  reach. 

Pontiac  had  been  warned  at  last  of  this  new 
danger,  and  had  sent  his  trusty  Ottawas,  leaping  like 
deer,  down  the  liver  banks  with  a  faint  hope  that  the 
approaching  convoy  might  still  be  cut  off.  But  they 
were  too  late,  and  though  their  fire  was  very  destruc- 
tive while  it  lasted,  the  boats  pressed  steadily  on  and  in 
a  few  minutes  more  had  gained  the  shelter  of  the  fort. 

The  newly  arrived  detachment  —  three  hundred 
strong — was  composed  of  troops  from  the  50th  and 
80th  regiments  of  the  line,  and  twenty  of  Rogers' 
hardy  rangere.  As  boat  after  boat  swept  up  to  the 
strand  and  landed  its  men  tliey  were  received  with 
wild  cheers,  frantic  embraces,  and  every  manifesta- 
tion of  overwhelming  joy.  The  new-comers,  sturdy, 
well-fed,  and  perfectly  equipped,  presented  a  striking 
contrast  to  the  gaunt,  hoUow-clieeked  troops  clad  in 
tatters,  who  had  held  the  fort  so  long  and  so  bravely. 
As  the  former  moved  steadily  up  the  narrow  street 
in  a  long  line  of  glittering  scarlet,  while  drum  and 
fife  waked  cheery  echoes  from  the  silent  houses,  the 
latter  felt  that  the  day  of  their  deliverance  had  indeed 
come,  and  well  repaid  for  all  their  toil. 


FORT   DETROIT  IS   RKINFORCED 


269 


Dalzeirs  boats  brought  many  things  besides  men, 
guns,  and  ammunition.  It  brought  provisions,  let- 
ters, and  news  from  the  great  far-away  world.  It 
brought  a  confirmation  of  the  treaty,  recently  signed 
between  England  and  France,  which  set  at  rest  all 
fears  that  Pontiac  might  receive  French  aid  in  his 
present  struggle.  It  also  brought  a  number  of 
dainties  for  the  officers'  mess,  such  as  had  been  un- 
known to  its  table  for  many  months.  So  Gladwyn 
gave  a  dinner  that  night  to  which  every  officer  in  the 
fort  was  bidden. 

When  the  appointed  time  arrived  and  Majors 
Gladwyn  and  Rogers ;  Captains  Dalzell,  Grant,  and 
Gray;  Lieutenants  Cuyler,  Hay,  and  Brown,  and 
half  a  dozen  more,  all  in  speckless  uniforms,  were 
assembled  about  the  homely  but  well-laden  mess- 
table,  there  entered  still  another  at  whom  the  new- 
comers gazed  in  surprise  but  without  recognition. 
He  was  a  little  man  dressed  in  the  costume  of  the 
backwoods,  a  belted  buckskin  shirt,  leggivigs,  and 
moccasins,  and  a  coonskin  cap.  He  hesitated,  as 
though  from  shyness,  as  he  glanced  irresolutely  about 
him.  Then  Gladwyn,  stepping  quickly  forward,  took 
him  by  the  hand,  exclaiming :  — 

"  You  are  just  in  time,  my  dear  fellow,  though  I 
had  begun  to  fear  that  you  were  not  going  to  join  us. 
Here  are  a  lot  of  old  friends  waiting  to  greet  and 
congratulate  you." 

"  Are  they  ?  "  asked  the  stranger,  dubiously. 


I 


] 

I 

f 


fi. 


2oO 


AT  WAR   WITH   PONTIAC 


j 

i     i^ 
1 

1     J. 

i 

J 

II 

! 

1 

ij 

;  t 
ii 

"  By  Jove ! "  laughed  Gladwyn,  "  I  don't  believe 
one  of  them  recognizes  you.  Gentlemen,  permit  me 
the  honor  of  introducing  one  of  the  heroes  of  this 
present  war,  Paymaster  Leonidas  Bullen.** 

Whereupon  there  arose  such  a  shout  from  that 
mess-room  as  startled  the  distant  sentries  on  the 
outer  walls.  "  BuUen,  old  man,  forgive  me."  "  It 
cnn'tbel"  "Incredible!"  "Bullen,  the  Beau  Brum- 
mel  of  the  service,  in  leather  I "  "  Why,  Diogenes, 
what  are  you  doing  here  ?  "  "  Is  it  a  masquerade  ?  " 
"  Is  it  a  joke  ?  "  "  What  means  this  unique  head- 
gear ? "     "A nd  Diogenes,  I  say,  where  is  the  tub ? " 

**  Gentlemen,"  replied  the  paymaster,  "  it  is  no 
joke,  but  a  stern  reality.  As  my  only  choice  of  a 
dinner  dress  lay  between  a  suit  of  paint  and  this 
costume,  out  of  consideration  for  your  prejudices  I 
chose  this.  My  head-gear  may  be  unique,  but  it  is 
T.t  least  warm  and  it  is  also  the  only  covering  I  can 
at  present  bestow  upon  my  baldness.  It  is  true  I 
might  have  worn  feathers,  but  unfortunately  feathei*s 
suggest  to  me  only  very  recent  and  unpleasant  asso- 
ciations. As  for  my  tub,  I  shall  consider  it  a  per- 
sonal favor,  gentlemen,  if  you  will  never  again 
mention  that  unfortunate  article  in  my  presence." 

"  He  came  very  near  being  boiled  alive  in  it," 
whispered  Gladwyn  to  Captain  Dalzell. 

"What?" 

"  Yes,  like  a  prawn  or  a  crayfish."  ^ 

"By  Jove!     How?" 


FORT  DETROIT   IS   REINFORCED 


261 


»» 


Then  Gliidwyii  relatod  the  history  of  the  pay- 
master's recent  experiences  and  bravery  so  effectively 
that  ^ho  poor  little  man  became  rosy  with  confusion, 
and  when  at  the  conclusion  of  the  narrative  his  health 
Wiis  pledged  witli  a  round  of  cheers,  he  could  only 
stammer  in  reply  :  — 

"  I  thank  you,  gentlemen,  from  the  bottom  of  my 
heart.  I  also  thank  the  major  for  his  kindly  effort 
to  convert  me  into  a  hero.  I  fear,  though,  that  he  is 
only  trying  to  make  amends  for  threatening  to  shoot 
me  when  I  fii-st  made  application  for  his  hospitality." 

"  Shoot  you,  old  man!  You  don't  mean  it.  What 
for?     Had  you  challenged  him?     Tell  us  about  it." 

"It  is  only  too  true,"  confessed  Major  Gladwyn, 
"and  but  for  the  timely  interference  of  Madam 
Rothsay  I  fear  I  should  have  succeeded  to  my  ever- 
lasting sorrow." 

When  this  had  been  explained,  and  Madam  Roth- 
say's  health  had  been  pledged.  Captain  Dalzell  in- 
quired what  had  become  of  Miss  Hester,  who,  he 
understood,  had  accompanied  the  elder  lady  on  her 
western  trip. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  say,"  replied  Gladwyn,  "  that  she 
is  held  piisoner  by  Pontiac  in  company  with  her 
father  the  major,  and  Ensign  Hester  her  brother.  He 
was  with  BuUen,  you  know,  and  sacrificed  himself  to 
warn  the  schooner  Gladwyn  of  her  danger  the  other 
night.  It  was  a  fine  thing  to  do,  and  I  would  gladly 
give  up  the  schooner,  valuable  as  she  is  to  me,  if  by 


ijl 


'.n 


2H2 


AT   WAU    WITH   PONTIAC 


80  doing  he  could  be  restored  to  us.  Madam  Rothsay 
was  also  held  prisoner  by  the  redskius  until  it 
fortunately  occurred  to  them  to  offer  her  in  exchange 
for  a  vilhinous  Ojibwa  chief,  whom  we  happened  to 
have  on  hand.  Of  course  I  was  only  too  glad  to 
make  the  exchange,  and  wish  I  had  a  dozen  more 
like  him  to  offer  for  the  Hesters." 

"  By  Jove ! "  cried  Captain  Dalzell,  "  it  is  horrible 
to  think  of  the  grand  old  major  and  his  lovely 
daughter,  and  that  fine  son  of  his,  all  in  the  power  of 
those  devils.  Can't  we  do  something  toward  their 
rescue,  Gladwyn?  Surely  we  are  strong  enough  now 
to  take  the  offensive.  1  should  be  only  too  happy  to 
lead  a  night  attack  on  Pontiac's  camp.  We  could 
make  it  a  complete  surprise,  and  my  fellows  are 
simply  spoiling  for  a  fight.  It  does  seem  as  though 
the  time  to  strike  a  decisive  blow  had  come,  and  every 
day  that  we  postpone  it  only  increases  the  peril  of 
the  Hesters.  What  do  you  say,  major  ?  Won't  you 
consider  the  proposition  seriously  ?  " 

So  the  dinner  party  was  turned  into  a  council  of 
war,  and,  before  it  broke  up,  an  attack  on  Pontiac's 
camp  had  been  arranged  for  the  following  night. 


ft 


ClIAl'TER   XXXIV 


AH-MO,  THE  DAUGHTER  OF  I'ONTIAC 


The  day  just  concluded  had  been  one  of  unhap- 
piness  and  anxiety  for  the  great  Ottawa  chieftain. 
The  rumored  defection  of  his  Wyandot  allies  was 
proved  true.  The  safe  arrival  at  the  fort  of  Dalzell's 
expedition  was  the  most  deadly  blow  yet  struck  at 
his  cherished  project.  To  crown  all,  he  was  not  on 
the  best  of  terms  with  his  sole  remaining  allies,  the 
fierce  and  warlike  Ojibwas.  These  had  no  more 
desire  than  the  Wyandots  to  fight  on  a  losing  side ; 
and,  moreover,  they  had  a  private  grievance  of  long 
standing  against  Pontiac.  It  arose  from  the  capture 
of  one  of  their  chiefs  by  the  English,  and  the  refusal 
of  Pontiac  to  offer  Major  Hester  in  exchange  for 
him. 

Firm  in  his  belief  that  Detroit  must  eventually  fall 
into  his  hands,  and  that  every  soul  within  its  walls 
would  be  killed,  the  Ottawa  chief,  intent  on  saving 
the  life  of  the  white  man  who  had  onco  saved  his, 
refused  to  restore  him  to  a  place  of  such  peril.  In 
vain  did  the  Ojibwa  captive  —  who  was  no  other 
than  our  old  acquaintance,  Mahng  —  send  messages 
by  the  French  settlers,  who  carried  occasional  com- 

263 


J  J 


ii 


204 


AT    WAK    WITH    I'ONTIAC 


III 


municatioiLS  between  the  fort  iiiid  tlie  Ottawa  vil- 
lage, threatening  that,  if  Major  Hester  were  not 
exchanged  for  him,  he  would  intluence  his  tribe  to 
make  peace  with  the  English.  Pontiac  only  sent 
answer  that  the  major  was  not  his  prisoner,  but  his 
guest,  and  therefore  not  subject  to  exchange,  but 
that  the  first  captive  of  sufficient  consequence  who 
should  be  brought  in  should  be  offered  in  his  place. 

When,  therefore,  Edith  Hester  and  Madam  Roth- 
say  reached  the  village,  Pontiac  conceived  the  project 
of  presenting  the  latter  before  the  gates  of  Detroit, 
and  demanding  the  release  of  the  Ojibwa  chief  in  her 
stead.  To  the  grief  of  Madam  Rothsay  herself,  and 
of  the  beautiful  charge  from  whom  she  was  thus 
separated,  this  plan  was  at  once  carried  out,  with  the 
result  that  Mahng  v/as  restored  to  his  followers. 
He  was,  however,  more  imbittered  than  ever  against 
Pontiac,  not  only  on  account  of  his  long  imprison- 
ment, but  because  of  a  woman  having  been  offered 
and  accepted  in  exchange  for  him. 

This  was  not  only  a  severe  blow  to  liis  own  pride, 
but  to  that  of  his  people ;  and  they  became  clamor- 
ous to  have  the  insult  avenged,  for  which  purpose 
Mahng  demanded  that  Major  Hester  be  delivered 
to  them,  to  do  with  as  they  pleased.  This  demand 
was  refused  with  such  indignant  scorn  that  Mahng*s 
evil  face  became  black  with  fury;  and,  though  he 
strode  from  Pontiac's  presence  in  silence.,  his  heart 
was  filled  with   rage.     This  was  intensified  a  few 


AH-MO,  THK   DAUGHTKU  OF   rONTIAC^ 


266 


days  later  wliea  the  Ottawa  cliief  upbraided  him, 
and  charged  liim  with  superstitious  cowa'dico  for 
aiding  the  escape  of  a  white  prisoner  who  had  been 
condemned  to  death.  In  this  case,  Mahng  had  felt 
certain  that  Paymaster  Bullen,  carefully  disguised  as 
an  Indian,  would  be  fired  upon  and  killed  by  the 
garrison  of  the  fort,  as  he  approached  it,  and  was  as 
disgusted  as  any  one  could  be  by  the  unexpected 
result  of  that  experiment. 

Distressed  as  Edith  Hester  was  at  being  separated 
from  Madam  Rothsay,  she  rejoiced  at  the  latter's 
restoration  to  the  protection  of  British  troops,  and 
became  reconciled  to  her  own  prolonged  captivity 
when  she  found  that  she  was  to  be  allowed  to  spend 
it  in  the  company  of  her  beloved  father. 

Although  the  brave  old  major  chafed  like  a  caged 
lion  at  his  enforced  detention  in  Pontiac's  camp,  he 
bore  it  withoi/t  a  murmur,  and  strove  to  aid  the 
cause  of  his  countrymen  by  endeavoring  to  impress 
upon  the  Ottawa  leader  the  folly  of  resistance  to  the 
English.  He  knew  nothing  of  his  daughter's  cap- 
tivity, nor  even  of  her  departure  from  New  York, 
until  one  evening,  as  he  sat  alone  in  the  room  as- 
signed to  his  use,  the  door  was  gently  opened,  and 
she  stood  before  him  in  all  the  radiancy  of  her  youth 
and  beauty.  For  a  moment  he  stared  as  though  at  a 
vision,  but  as  she  stepped  forward  he  opened  wide 
his  arms,  and  father  and  daughter  were  reunited  in 
a  fond  embrace.     There  were  so  many  questions  to 


20(( 


AT   WAR   WITH    I'ONTIAC 


be  asktMl  jiiul  answered,  so  nuu;]i  news  to  be  told, 
and  so  many  conjectures  to  l)e  made  concerning  their 
ultimate  fate,  that,  for  more  tlian  an  hour,  they 
talked  ol)livious  of  everything,  save  the  joy  of  being 
together.     'JMien  Kdith  exclaimed  in  dismay  :  — 

**If  I  haven't  forgotten  poor  Ah-mo,  and  left  her 
waiting  outside  all  this  time,  when  I  said  I'd  be  back 
in  a  few  minutes!  May  I  fetcli  her,  father?  She  is 
one  of  my  dearest  friends,  and  I  want  you  to  know 
her." 

"  Certainly,  my  dear,"  answered  the  major,  with  a 
smile.  **  Bring  lier  in,  by  all  means  ;  for  any  friend 
of  yours  must  needs  be  a  friend  of  mine  as  well." 

A  moment  later,  when  the  Indian  girl,  who  had 
waited  patiently  all  this  time,  was  led  into  the  bare 
little  room,  it  was  Edith's  turn  to  be  surprised. 
Instead  of  receiving  her  as  a  stranger,  Major  Hester 
greeted  her  as  a  friend  whose  absence  had  been  a 
source  of  genuine  regret. 

"It  is  good  to  see  you  once  more,  Ah-mo,"  he 
said.  "Though,  had  I  known  the  nature  of  the 
errand  that  caused  your  absence,  my  anxiety  for  your 
return  had  been  doubled  many  times.  Now  I  have 
to  bless  you  and  thank  you  for  your  brave  care  of 
my  dear  girl,  who  has,  all  unknown  to  me,  passed 
through  so  many  recent  perils." 

"  Then  you  knew  Ah-mo  before,  papa !  "  exclaimed 
Edith;  "and  all  this  time  she  never  told  me." 

"  Nor  did  she  tell  me  that  she  was  going  in  search 


AII-Mn,  TllK   DAUIJIITER  OF   I'ONTIAC 


U07 


of  yoii,  for  which  I  iun  now  grateful,  since  it  saved 
me  a  painful  anxiety,"  replied  the  major.  "Yes; 
Ah-mo  and  I  are  old  friends,  and,  of  late,  many  an 
hour,  that  would  otherwise  have  hung  heavily  on 
my  hands,  luus  been  lightened  by  her  visits.  Forest 
maiden  as  she  is,  1  Hnd  her  to  be  well  veraed  in 
polite  literature,  and  possessed  of  a  shrewd  knowl- 
edge of  affairs,  though,  above  all,  has  she  learned 
the  value  of  a  silent  tongue." 

*' Yes,  indeed !  "  cried  impulsive  Edith.  "Even 
during  our  short  acquaintance  I  have  discovered 
that,  in  many  things  which  I  ought  to  know,  her 
knowledge  is  superior  to  mine ;  that  for  keeping  a 
secret  she  has  no  equal ;  and  that  with  it  all  she  is 
one  of  the  dearest  and  sweetest  and  most  lovable 
girls  I  ever  met." 

Then,  seeing  that  her  friend  was  covered  with 
confusion  by  all  this  praise,  she  hastened  to  change 
the  subject  by  saying,  "And  now,  if  Donald  were 
only  here,  what  a  happy  party  we  would  form,  and 
how  readily  might  we  forget  our  captivity!" 

"  Not  captivity ! "  interrupted  Ah-mo,  eagerly. 
"  Pontiac's  guests  o?.n  never  be  his  captives." 

"While  your  father's  opinions  and  mine  are  not 
agreed  on  that  point,  my  dear  girl,  he  certainly  has 
done  everything  suggested  by  a  courteous  hospital- 
ity to  make  my  stay  here  comfortable,"  said  Major 
Hester.  "  But,  as  any  form  of  detention  against 
one*s  will  must  be  regarded  as  a  captivity,  I  cannot 


Hi 


' 


.1  (I 


r  I  1 


268 


AT  WAR   WITH  PONTIAC 


echo  your  wish,  Edith,  that  Donald  were  here.  He 
is  so  young,  so  fearless,  and  so  impatient  of  inaction, 
that,  were  he  taken  prisoner,  he  would  do  and  dare 
anything  to  effect  an  escape,  with  possible  resTalts 
that  I  cannot  bear  to  contemplate.  Therefore  I  am 
glad  that  he  is  far  away,  and  is  happily  free  from 
a  knowledge  of  our  position." 

"Why,  father,  is  he  not  in  Detroit?"  queried 
Edith. 

"  No ;  he  left  before  the  outbreak,  with  despatches 
for  New  York,  and,  had  you  not  come  by  the  north 
shore  of  the  lake,  he  would  surely  have  met  you." 
.  "Well,"  sighed  Edith,  "I  wish  we  might  have 
met.  Had  I  known  of  his  coming,  I  should  cer- 
tainly have  waited  for  him  in  New  York ;  though,  as 
things  have  turned  out,  I  wouldn't  have  missed  this 
coming  to  you,  father  dear,  for  the  world.  Now  I 
only  hope  he  won't  try  to  return  before  peace  is 
declared.  Oh,  Ah-mo !  why  will  your  father  persist 
in  this  horrid  war?  He  surely  cannot  hope  to  suc- 
ceed against  the  forces  of  the  king." 

"  His  warriors  have  not  yet  been  defeated,"  replied 
the  Indian  girl  quickly,  with  a  bright  flush  heighten- 
ing the  dark  beauty  of  her  face.  "And  he  is  too 
brave  a  man  not  to  make  war  against  those  who 
would  steal  the  lands  of  his  people,  and  kill  them 
like  so  many  wild  beasts.  Why  do  the  English 
drive  my  father  to  war?" 

"Do  not  become  involved  in  fruitless  discussion, 


re.  He 
naction, 
nd  dare 
results 
re  I  am 
ee  from 

queried 

spatches 
ke  north 
et  you." 
;ht  have 
>uld  cer- 
lough,  as 
jsed  this 
Now  I 
peace  is 
r  persist 
3  to  suc- 

"  replied 
leighten- 
le  is  too 
lose  who 
till  them 
English 

iscussion, 


ii 


AH-MO,  THE   DAUGHTER  OF  PONTIAC 


269 


my  dears,"  chided  the  old  soldier.  "This  question 
is  one  to  be  settled  by  older  and  wiser  heads  than 
yours." 

So  the  conversation  was  changed,  and  ran  in  other 
channels  far  into  the  night. 

By  Pontiac's  order,  suitable  accommodations  had 
been  provided  for  Edith  in  tlie  farmhouse  adjoining 
that  occupied  by  her  father,  and,  at  her  request, 
Ah-mo  shared  them  with  her  at  night.  During  the 
day  the  latter  was  much  with  her  own  father,  acting 
as  his  secretary  and  adviser,  for  which  position  no 
one  of  Indian  blood  was  so  well  fitted  as  she. 

Pontiac  was  too  able  a  man  not  to  realize  the 
value  of  an  education  beyond  that  afforded  by  the 
forest,  and  had  long  ago  selected  Ah-mo,  the  cleverest 
of  all  his  children,  as  the  one  who  should  receive  its 
benefits.  So  she  had  spent  six  years  in  Montreal, 
studying  diligently,  learning  easily,  and  in  all  ways 
preparing  herself  for  the  very  place  she  now  occu- 
pied. She  had  been  courted,  petted,  and  made  much 
of  by  the  gay  society  of  the  Canadian  capital ;  but 
never  did  she  forget  her  loyalty  to  her  own  people. 
Thus,  when,  on  the  eve  of  his  great  undertaking,  her 
father  sent  for  her,  she  unhesitatingjy  relinquished 
the  allurements  of  civilization  for  a  place  in  his 
wilderness  lodge  and  by  his  side. 

From  him  she  was  now  learning  tlie  greatest  of 
all  arts,  that  of  knowing  when  to  keep  silence  and 
when  to  speak.     Thus,  fond  as  she  had  become  of 


\\ 


I*] 


270 


AT  WAR  WITH  PONTIAC 


I 


Edith  Hester,  she  wisely  kept  many  things  from  her ; 
among  others,  by  Pontiac's  desire,  the  fact  that  her 
brother  Donald  and  Paymaster  BuUen  had  been  cap- 
tured, an  event  that  occurred  some  two  weeks  after 
Edith  herself  was  brought  from  the  island.  Nor 
were  the  major  and  his  daughter  allowed  to  know 
what  took  place  in  the  Ottawa  village,  which  had 
been  removed  a  full  mile  from  the  carefully  guarded 
quarters  assigned  to  them,  and  to  which,  for  their 
own  safety,  they  were  closely  confined. 

Ah-mo's  influence  over  her  father  was  regarded 
unfavorably  hy  some  of  the  chiefs,  and  especially  by 
Mahng,  the  Ojibwa,  who,  having  sought  hei  in  mar- 
riage for  his  son  Suggema,  and  being  met  with  a 
prompt  refusal,  had  conceived  an  intense  dislike  for 
her.  This  was  inflamed  by  her  friendship  for  the 
daughter  of  Major  Hester,  whom  Mahng  regarded 
as  the  chief  of  his  enemies.  Therefore,  in  all  his 
plans  for  revenge  upon  those  who  he  was  determined 
should  feel  the  weight  of  his  wrath,  Ah-in.o  was  in- 
cluded; and  he  impatiently  awaited  a  fitting  time 
for  the  carrying  out  of  his  evil  designs.  When, 
therefore,  near  the  close  of  a  certain  dav,  Pontiac 
bade  the  Ojibwas  hold  themselves  in  readiness  to 
repel  an  attack,  which  he  had  secret  information 
the  English  were  to  make  that  night,  Mahng  smiled 
grimly ;  for  he  believed  his  long-desired  opportunity 
had  arrived. 


CHAPTER  XXXV 


A  NIGHT  OF  FIGHTING  AND  TERROR 


In  Fort  Detroit  the  night  after  that  of  Gladwyn's 
dinner  party  was  one  of  sleeplessness,  busy  prepara- 
tion, and  intense,  though  suppressed  excitement. 
The  expedition  intended  for  the  surprise  and  de- 
struction of  Pontiac's  village,  and  the  rescue  of  the 
Hesters,  was  about  to  set  forth  under  command  of 
Captain  Dalzell.  As  it  was  believed  that  the  Indians 
would  be  less  on  their  guard  just  before  dawn  than 
at  any  other  hour  of  the  night,  the  line  of  march 
was  not  to  bo  taken  up  until  two  o'clock  in  the 
morning.  At  that  hour  the  great  gate  of  the  fort 
was  thrown  open  and  the  selected  troops,  two  hun- 
dred and  fifty  in  number,  filed  silently  out  into  the 
intense  darkness  of  the  sultry  night. 

In  close  order  and  without  the  utterance  of  a  word 
they  marched  up  the  river  road,  the  black  waters 
gleaming  dimly  on  their  right.  Their  left  was 
bounded  by  the  white  houses  of  Canadian  settlers, 
with  their  barns  and  orchards  and  cornfields.  From 
these  they  were  saluted  by  the  clamorous  barking  of 
watch-dogs,  while  many  a  startled  face  peered  anx- 
iously at  them  from  the  unshuttered  windows.     The 

271 


'M. 


"Vi'l 


m 


fit 

i  •:     I' 


\ 


i 


272 


AT  WAR   WITH  PONTIAC 


frightened  inhabitants,  roused  from  sleep  by  the  un- 
usual sound  of  marching  troops,  were  filled  with 
uneasiness,  and  gathered  in  little  groups  by  the 
roadside  to  question  each  other  and  listen  to  the 
measured  tramping  as  it  was  borne  faintly  back  to 
them  on  the  damp  night  air. 

Besides  these  there  were  other  figures  flitting 
behind  the  houses,  through  the  rustling  cornfields 
and  from  tree  to  tree  of  the  orchards,  as  still  and 
dark  as  shadows,  but  ever  keeping  pace  with  the 
marching  troops,  and  ever  watching  them.  These 
were  the  scouts  of  Pontiac,  without  whose  knowledge 
no  man  had  left  the  gates  of  Detroit  by  day  or  night 
for  more  than  a  year.  Out  on  the  water  was  heard 
the  muffled  sound  of  oars  from  the  two  bateaux,  each 
armed  with  a  swivel  gun  that  kept  abreast  of  the 
troops  close  to  the  river  bank. 

Nearly  two  miles  from  the  fort.  Parent's  creek,  ever 
since  that  memorable  night  called  "  Bloody  Run," 
crossed  the  road  at  right  angles  through  a  rough 
ravine,  and  entered  the  river  a  short  distance  below 
amid  a  rank  growth  of  sedge  and  wild  rice.  It  was 
spanned  by  a  rude  wooden  bridge  and  beyond  this  the 
bank  rose  steeply.  On  its  summit  were  piled  stacks 
of  firewood  provided  for  winter's  use  by  the  thrifty 
Canadians ;  while  from  it  stretched  away  another 
series  of  orchards  and  fields,  enclosed  by  stout 
fences.  As  the  dark  column  of  troops  struck  the 
bridge,  its  hollow  echoes  rang  ominously  in  their 


f 


A  NIGHT  OF  FIGHTING  AND  TERROR 


273 


un- 

with 

the 

the 

k  to 


»» 


ears  and  a  deadly  chill  seemed  to  come  into  the 
air. 

The  advanced  guard  had  crossed  the  bridge  and 
breasted  the  steep  ascent  to  its  summit.  The  narrow 
structure  behind  them  was  choked  by  the  passage 
of  the  main  body.  All  were  pressing  eagerly  for- 
ward, anxious  to  gain  the  open  ground  beyond ; 
when  suddenly  there  arose,  clear  and  shrill  from 
the  blackness  beside  them,  the  terrible  war-cry  of 
Pontiac.  It  was  instantly  answered  by  a  burst  of 
yells  and  a  blaze  of  fire  from  every  wood-pile,  fence, 
and  tree,  behind  which  the  fierce  Ottawa  warriors 
had  been  concealed  for  hours  in  anticipation  of  this 
moment. 

Before  that  withering  fire  the  advanced  guard, 
leaving  half  their  number  dead  behind  them,  stag- 
gered back  on  the  main  body,  and  all  recoiled 
together.  The  little  bridge  became  clogged  beyond 
its  capacity  with  panic-stricken  humanity,  those  in 
front  striving  to  fly,  those  in  the  rear  endeavoring 
to  advance,  until  dozens  of  dead,  wounded,  and  even 
of  those  untouched  by  bullet  were  forced  over  the 
unrailed  sides  into  the  gloomy  depths  below.  If  at 
this  moment  an  attack  had  been  made  from  the  rear, 
not  a  man  of  Dalzell's  force  would  ever  have  regained 
Fort  Detroit.  This  was  what  Pontiac  had  planned, 
and,  for  want  of  allies  whom  he  could  more  fully 
trust,  he  had  consigned  this  important  duty  to  M ahng 
and  his  Ojibwas.     Now,  amid  the  roar  of  battle,  he 


n 


;  i! 


S74 


AT  WAR  WITH  PONTIAC 


listened  with  strained  ears  for  the  firing  that  should 
denote  the  Ojibwa  attack.  But  no  sound  came  from 
that  direction,  and  the  heart  of  the  great  warrior  sank 
within  him  as  he  realized  that  a  vital  part  of  his  plan 
had  miscarried. 

He  had  scant  time  for  reflection,  however,  for  the 
brave  Dalzell,  forcing  his  way  to  the  front,  raised 
his  cheery  voice  with  encouraging  shouts,  rallied  his 
bewildered  men,  and  led  them  on  a  fierce  charge  up 
the  heights.  One  more  crashing  volley  was  poured 
into  their  ranks,  but  it  no  longer  came  as  a  surprise, 
and  mad  with  fury  the  redcoats  swept  on  to  the 
summit.  To  their  amazement,  it  was  as  deserted  as 
though  no  human  being  had  ever  trodden  its  soil. 
The  place  from  which,  a  moment  before,  Indian  guns 
had  flashed  in  their  faces,  was  as  silent  as  the  grave. 
The  enemy  had  vanished  in  the  blackness  as  though 
by  magic,  and  unaccustomed  to  the  tactics  of  forest 
warfare,  the  newly  arrived  troops  became  filled  with 
a  mysterious  fear. 

Still  their  leader  urged  them  forward,  and  the 
uncertain  march  was  continued  for  a  short  distance 
until  it  became  apparent  that  the  fence  lines  had 
been  changed,  so  as  to  lead  them  from  the  road,  and 
that  they  were  involved  in  a  maze  of  outbuildings 
and  enclosures.  As  they  blindly  groped  their  way, 
starting  nervously  at  every  contact  with  each  other, 
and  becoming  each  moment  more  confused,  the  shrill 
war-cry  was   again  raised,  in  their  very  ears;   the 


A  NIGHT  OF   FIGHTING   AND  TERROR 


276 


guns  of  an  unseen  foe  again  flashed  in  their  faces,  and 
they  were  furiously  attacked  from  ail  sides  at  once. 
They  could  not  fight  back ;  for  if  they  sprang  at  the 
flash  of  a  gun,  it  was  only  to  find  an  empty  space. 
A  cry  arose  that  they  were  being  surrounded,  and 
in  another  minute  the  whole  force  was  in  a  panic- 
stricken  retreat,  rushing  pell-mell  down  the  bank 
and  across  the  bridge  which  was  still  held  by  the 
rear  guard  under  Captain  Grant. 

Here  Dalzell  managed  to  restore  partial  order  and 
give  his  men  a  certain  degree  of  confidence  by  order- 
ing the  crews  of  the  bateaux,  which  had  come  up  the 
creek,  to  sweep  the  opposite  bank  with  grape  from 
their  swivel  guns.  Thus  the  enemy  was  held  in 
check  while  such  of  the  wounded  as  could  be  found 
were  got  into  the  boats.  The  moment  this  task  was 
accomplished  the  retreat  was  resumed,  while  the 
Indians  sprang  in  pursu  t,  pouring  in  a  heavy  fire 
from  the  rear  and  both  flanks.  Every  now  and  then 
the  rear  guard  faced  about  and  delivered  a  volley  at 
their  yelling  pui-suers,  who  promptly  returned  it  with 
interest.  Still  the  way  was  open  to  the  fort,  and  no 
serious  fears  were  entertained  that  this  would  not 
eventually  be  reached,  until,  when  half  the  distance 
was  covered,  the  main  body  came  opposite  to  a  newly 
dug  cellar.  In  this  were  concealed  a  strong  force  of 
Indians  under  Pontiac  himself,  who  had  hurried  them 
to  this  point  with  the  hope  of  still  cutting  off  the 
retreat,  and  making  good  the  previous  failure  of  his 


270 


AT   WAR   WITH  PONTIAC 


m  ' 

m  ^ 


plan.  The  advance  was  allowed  to  pass.  Then  came 
again  the  terrible  signal-cry  of  the  Ottawa  chieftain. 
With  it  his  warriors  delivered  such  an  unexpected 
and  scathing  volley  that  the  bewildered  troops  again 
broke  ranks,  and,  not  knowing  which  way  to  fly, 
huddled  together  like  sheep  in  their  frenzied  efforts 
to  escape  the  hail  of  bullets. 

Dalzell,  already  twice  wounded,  threatened  his 
men,  pleaded  with  them,  beat  them  into  line  with 
the  flat  of  his  sword,  and  finally  rallied  them  in  a 
charge  that  cleared  the  fatal  cellar  of  its  yelling 
inmates.  But  the  moment  the  retreat  was  resumed 
the  attack  became  as  fierce  and  galling  as  ever.  Pon- 
tiac  distributed  his  warriors  from  house  to  house, 
stationing  them  in  such  advantageous  positions  that 
their  fire  was  well-nigh  unsupportable,  and  every  rod 
of  the  road  to  safety  must  be  stubbornly  contested. 

It  was  now  daylight,  and  through  the  morning 
mist  the  harassed  soldiers  could  see  their  agile  foes 
darting  forward  to  cut  off  stragglers,  despatch  the 
wounded,  or  scalp  the  dead,  leaping  back,  firing, 
and  running  to  new  positions,  all  the  time  yelling 
like  so  many  demons.  A  strong  party  opening  fire 
from  behind  a  range  of  fences.  Captain  Gray  was 
ordered  to  dislodge  them.  He  obeyed,  and  fell  mor- 
tally wounded  at  the  head  of  his  charging  company. 

• 

The  moment  his  men  turned  their  backs,  the  active 
foe  rushed  to  their  old  position,  and  their  fire  became 
hotter  than  before. 


A   NIGHT  OF   FIGHTING   AND  TERROR 


277 


The  retreat  was  now  resolved  into  a  flight,  the  dead 
lay  where  they  fell,  and  the  wounded  were  aban- 
doned to  their  fate.  A  sergeant  shot  through  the 
hips  raised  himself  on  his  hands  and  gazed  despair- 
ingly after  the  retiring  battalion.  Dalzell  saw  him. 
They  had  fought  together  on  many  a  stubborn  field, 
and  the  commander  could  not  leave  his  old  com- 
rade to  perish.  He  sprang  to  the  rescue  of  the 
wounded  man,  und  was  lifting  him  when  struck  and 
instantly  killed  by  an  Indian  bullet.  Few  saw  him 
fall,  and  none  dared  attempt  the  recovery  of  his 
body. 

With  the  death  of  their  gallant  leader,  the  retreat- 
ing troops  became  a  panic-stricken  mob  in  which 
every  one  looked  out  for  himself.  Only  Grant's 
little  company  and  Rogers*  handful  of  rangers  stood 
firm,  and  by  occupying  house  after  house  as  they 
slowly  fell  back,  protected  somewhat  the  flight  of 
the  main  body. 

The  exhausted  fugitives  were  still  at  a  distance 
from  the  fort  when  thjey  were  met  by  an  irregular 
company  of  traders  and  their  employees,  the  sole  force 
that  Gladwyn  dared  spare  from  his  slender  garrison, 
under  command  of  Paymaster  Bullen.  The  little 
man  in  buckskin  displayed  such  coolness  and  good 
judgment,  and  was  so  ably  supported  by  his  motley 
following,  that  from  that  moment  the  disastrous  re- 
treat was  effectively  covered.  By  eight  o'clock,  or 
after  six  hours   of  marching  and  fighting,  the  dis- 


m 


;i 


278 


AT  WAR   WITH  PONTIAC 


organized  remnant  of  the  little  army,  that  had  set 
forth  to  wipe  Pontiac  and  his  red  followers  from  the 
face  of  the  earth,  found  themselves,  as  by  a  miracle, 
once  more  behind  the  sheltering  palisades  of  the  fort, 
which  for  many  months  thereafter  they  had  no  desire 
to  leave. 

About  this  time,  the  Ottawa  chieftain  who  had 
won  this  signal  victory,  returned  to  his  village  with 
so  moody  a  brow,  that  even  his  own  followers  durst 
not  utter  their  rejoicings  in  his  presence.  He  had 
been  so  confident  of  destroying  Dalzell's  entire  force 
and  his  plans  had  been  so  well  laid,  that  to  have 
them  miscarry  through  treachery,  aroused  his  utmost 
fury.  Thus  he  now  proposed  to  deal  with  the  Irai- 
toYS  in  such  a  manner  that  there  would  be  no  chance 
of  their  example  becoming  contagious  among  the 
warriors  who  still  acknowledged  his  authority. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI 


BRAVE  DEATH  OF  THE  OLD  MAJOR 

The  evening  preceding  tliat  night  of  death  and 
terror  was  spent  quietly  and  pleasa.icly,  as  was  their 
wont,  by  Edith  and  Ah-mo  in  Major  Hester's  room. 
It  was  an  unusually  happy  time,  for  Ali-mo,  having 
received  her  father's  permission  to  do  so,  told  them 
of  Donald,  his  bravery,  his  wounds,  his  captivity, 
the  strange  manner  in  which  he  had  been  identified 
by  the  mark  of  a  totem  on  his  arm,  liis  recovery  from 
illness  in  the  secluded  quiet  of  Pontiac's  island,  and 
the  glad  tidings  that,  on  the  morrow,  he  would  be 
allowed  to  visit  them. 

To  both  Major  Hester  and  Edith  the  first  knowl- 
edge that  Donald  was  a  prisoner  came  as  a  shock, 
but  when  they  reflected  upon  the  kindness  with 
which  they  had  been  treated,  and  realized,  from 
Ah-mo's  account,  that  the  young  ensign  was  re- 
garded with  equal  favor  by  Pontiac,  they  became 
reconciled  to  the  idea  of  his  captivity,  and  only 
anxious  to  note  for  themselves  his  reported  recovery 
from  the  illness  caused  by  wounds.  So  they  im- 
patiently watched  the  passing  of  the  hours  that 
brought  him  nearer  to  them,  and  beguiled  the  time 

279 


i 


tl 


m 


280 


AT   WAR    WITH    roNTIAC 


ii 


by  Ulkinff  of  hiiri.  Miij(U'  Hostur  told  the  story  of 
Songii  and  Mahiig,  and  how  tho  life  of  the  former 
had  been  saved  by  the  baby  Donald.  With  infinite 
zest  lie  recalled  the  kick  with  whieli  he  had  repelled 
Mahng's  attack  on  the  young  Ottawa  chief,  who  was 
now  known  to  all  men  as  Pontiac. 

Ah-mo  had  never  before  heard  of  this,  and  she 
anxiously  wondered  if  that  Mahng  could  be  the 
same  who  was  now  the  leader  of  one  of  the  Ojibwa 
bands. 

But  the  major  was  still  reminiscing,  and  describ- 
ing the  brave  deed  of  Songa's  beautiful  squaw. 

"  My  mother,"  nmrmured  Ah-mo. 

"  And  more  worthy  of  honor  than  a  queen !  **  ex- 
claimed the  major. 

Then  he  told  of  their  escape  from  Tawtry  House, 
of  Donald's  subsequent  disappearance,  and  of  the 
strange  mark  found  on  his  arm  when  he  was  re- 
stored to  them. 

"I  soon  learned, "said  the  old  soldier, "that  it  was 
the  symbol  of  a  totem,  though  T  never  knew  why  it 
was  tattooed  on  the  child's  arm,  nor  by  whom.  Per- 
haps you  can  tell  us  of  it,  Ah-mo.  It  was  some- 
thing after  this  fashion." 

Here  the  major  drew  a  sketch  of  the  design  on  a 
bit  of  paper. 

"Yes,"  replied  the  Indian  girl,  regarding  the 
sketch,  "  from  this  alone  could  I  tell  the  clan  of  the 
warrior  wearing  it,  his  standing  in  the  tribe,  and 


BRAVE   DFATFl   OF   TMK   OLD   MAJOR 


281 


ex- 


who  had  tattooed  the  symlxjl.  Kveri  without  tlie 
sketch  I  could  liave  told  you  these  things,  for  I  have 
looked  upon  the  original.** 

"When?'*  jusked  Edith,  wonderingly. 

"At  the  time  when  my  father  recognized  his  own 
handiwork  on  the  arm  of  a  captive.'* 

"You  then  have  seen  our  Donald  and  never  told 
us  of  the  meeting,  nor  what  he  said,  nor  anything!  ** 
exclaimed  the  white  girl,  in  a  grieved  tone. 

"1  have  seen  him  twice,"  replied  Ah-mo,  "but 
we  have  never  exchanged  words,  nor  do  I  think  he 
knows  who  I  am.  The  first  time  I  saw  him  was 
shortly  after  my  coming  from  Montreal,  when  I  was 
on  the  river  in  a  canoe  with  one  of  my  girl  friends. 
He  w:»8  also  in  a  canoe,  but  helplessly  drifting,  hav- 
ing broken  his  only  paddle.  I  laughed  at  his  pre- 
dicament and  would  have  let  him  drift,  had  not  my 
companion  mentioned  his  name.  It  was  one  es- 
teemed by  all  of  Indian  blood,  and  though  I  knew 
not  whether  the  young  man  bore  any  relation  to  my 
father's  friend,  I  determined,  for  the  sake  of  his 
name,  to  help  him.  We  approached  him  so  quietly 
that  he  did  not  hear  us,  tossed  a  paddle  into  his 
canoe,  and  were  off  almost  before  he  knew  of  our 
presence.  That  was  one  time.  The  other  was  but 
a  few  weeks  since,  when  I  stood  with  my  father  and 
a  captive  was  laid  unconscious  at  our  feet.  My 
father  knew  him  not,  and  but  for  the  totem  would 
never  have  recognized  him." 


■  I 
I. 

^ 
!    I 


282 


AT   WAR   WITH   PONTIAC 


II 


Mm 


III 


m.  I; 


u 


u 


"  What  is  this  totem  ?  "  inquired  Edith. 

"  It  is  that  of  the  Bear,  the  same  to  which  my 
father  belongs." 

And  you,  too,  and  your  brothers  ?  " 
No,  we  belong  to  our  mother's  totem,  which  is 
that  of  the  Beaver,  for  no  one  may  belong  to  the 
totem  of  his  father." 

"  And  what  means  the  circle  of  serpents  ?  "  asked 
Major  Hester. 

"It  signifies  the  magic  circle  of  the  Metai,  to 
which  none  but  a  brave  warrior,  who  has  won  the 
honor  by  some  notable  deed,  may  belong." 

"But  Donald  was  a  child." 

"Was  he  not  by  birth  a  warrior  who  could  be 
naught  but  brave?  and  had  he  not  already,  as  you 
have  just  told,  saved  the  life  of  a  chief  of  the 
Metai?"  queried  Ah-mo. 

"  True,  so  he  had, "  asserted  the  major.  "  But  what 
is  this  Metai  of  which  you  speak?" 

"Being  a  woman,  1  know  but  little  of  it," 
answered  the  Indian  girl.  "  It  is  a  powerful  order  of 
much  mystery  extending  over  many  tribes.  It  is 
greatly  feared  by  those  who  do  not  belong  to  it, 
while  those  who  do  will  aid  each  other  in  any 
extremity  and  to  the  full  extent  of  their  powers. 
In  it  are  many  degrees  of  merit,  and  he  who  is 
its  chief  must  be  obeyed  by  all  who  acknowledge 
its  authority." 

"Wh}',  girl,   you   are  describing  free-masonry!" 


BRAVr'   DEATH  OF  THE  OLD   MAJOR 


283 


ich  my 


tiich  is 
to  the 

asked 

5tai,   to 
ron  the 


)uld  be 
as  you 
of  the 


at  what 


of  it," 
order  of 
It  is 
f  to  it, 
in  any 
powers, 
who  is 
)wledge 


jonry 


ft 


cried  the  major,  who  was  himself  a  master-mason. 
"Have  the  members  of  this  Metai  signs  and  pass- 
words by  which  they  may  recognize  each  other?" 

"They  have,  but  I  know  them  not,"  replied 
Ah-mo. 

"Of  course  not,  seeing  that  you  are  a  girl;  but 
Pontiac  is  certain  to  know  something  of  this  thing, 
and,  if  the  mighty  brotherhood  that  encircles  the 
world  has  indeed  penetrated  the  American  wilder- 
ness, then  will  we  settle  this  useless  war  in  short 
order.  By  the  way,  Ah-mo,  who  is  the  present 
chief  of  this  magic  circle?  or  is  it  not  known  to 
the  uninitiated?" 

"It  is  known  to  all  who  care  to  know,"  replied  the 
girl,  pro  idly,  "for  his  name  is  Pontiac,  and  it  is 
his  own  mark,  which  no  other  may  use,  that  encloses 
the  all-seeing  eye  of  the  Metai  on  your  son's  arm." 

"Whew-w-w,"  whistled  the  major,  reflectingly. 
"So  that  is  the  secret  of  Pontiac's  wide-spread  in- 
fluence? Well,  I  must  see  and  question  him  about 
it  to-morrow.  Now,  girls,  leave  me,  for  it  is  late, 
and  Ah-mo's  revelations  have  given  me  much  food 
for  thought." 

As  he  kissed  his  daughter  good-night  and  blessed 
her,  so  he  also,  for  the  first  time,  kissed  Ah-mo  and 
gave  her  his  blessing,  saying  that  she  was  becoming 
as  dear  to  him  as  an  own  daughter. 

As  the  two  girls  crossed  the  space  intervening 
between  Major  Hester's  quarters  and  the  house  in 


i;ii 


jifc 


284 


AT  WAR  WITH  PONTIAC 


ti 


4 

' 


which  they  slept,  Edith  wondered  that  they  did  not 
meet  any  of  the  guards  who  were  generally  so  quick 
to  note  every  movement  in  that  vicinity,  especially 
at  night.  She  was  also  impressed  with  Ah-mo's 
unusual  silence  and  her  frequent  starts  at  the  little 
noises  made  by  birds  or  insects.  When  they  reached 
their  room,  the  Indian  girl  sat  by  the  open  window, 
saying  that  she  did  not  feel  like  going  to  bed  just 
yet,  and  after  a  while  Edith  fell  asleep  leaving  her 
sitting  gazing  out  into  the  night. 

It  seemed  many  hours  later  when  she  awoke  to  find 
her  companion  still  sitting  in  the  same  position. 
On  rising  and  going  to  her,  she  found  the  Indian 
girx  to  be  trembling  as  though  with  a  chill. 

"  What  is  it,  Ah-mo  ?  "  she  asked  in  alarm.  "  Are 
you  ill,  dear?" 

As  though  in  answer  there  came  a  roar  of  mus- 
ketry from  a  point  not  far  distant,  and  yells,  and 
shrill  cries,  and  the  sharp  crack  of  rifles. 

At  the  sounds  Pontiac's  daughter  sprang  up, 
crying:  "It  has  begun!    Oh,  my  father!  my  father!  " 

"What  does  it  mean?  Tell  me,  Ah-mo!  '*  gasped 
Edith,  her  voice  sunk  to  a  whisper  with  terror. 

"It  is  a  battle,"  replied  the  Indian  girl,  sternly, 
"  between  thy  people  and  my  people.  It  is  time  to 
dress  and  be  prepared  for  what  may  happen." 

In  a  few  minutes  Edith,  fully  dressed,  declared 
that  she  must  go  to  her  father,  that  they  might  share 
together  whatever  danger  threatened. 


BRAVE  DEATH  OF  THE  OLD  MAJOR 


285 


.?" 


"Whither  you  go,**  replied  the  other,  "there  must 
I  go  also,"  and  so  they  left  the  house  in  company. 
They  heard  the  old  Canadian  couple  who  owned  it 
moving  about  as  they  went  out,  but  did  not  stop  to 
speak  to  them.  As  they  gained  the  road,  the  firing, 
which  had  been  momentarily  silenced,  broke  out 
afresh  apparently  nearer  than  before.  In  Major 
Hester's  quarters  they  saw  a  dim  light,  and  with 
clasped  hands  they  started  to  run  toward  it. 

At  that  moment  a  score  of  dark  figures  appeared, 
coming  swiftly  from  the  direction  of  the  light.  The 
next  instant  the  girls  were  surrounded,  seized  in 
brawny  arms,  and  borne  away,  their  gasping  cries  of 
terror  being  smothered  ere  they  were  fully  uttered. 

An  hour  later,  in  the  gray  of  dawn,  two  young 
men  came  hurrying  down  the  road.  "Is  that  the 
place,  Atoka?"  asked  one,  pointing  to  the  house 
occupied  by  Major  Hester,  in  front  of  which  a  little 
group  of  frightened  Canadian  peasants  were  gathered. 

His  companion  nodded  assent,  whereupon  the 
other  exclaimed,  "Thank  God,  there  has  been  no 
fighting  here ! "  Then  he  sprang  forward,  scattering 
the  Canadians,  who  recoiled  in  terror  at  his  sudden 
appearance,  and  entered  the  house.  In  another  min- 
ute a  bitter  cry  rang  from  the  open  windows,  and 
the  hearers  crossed  themselves  at  the  sound. 

Donald  Hester  had  discovered  his  father  lying  in 
a  pool  of  blood,  from  which  none  had  dared  lift  him, 
and  pierced  by  a  dozen  wounds,  but  still  breathing. 


I 


i 


11 

V 

m 


1 


280 


AT   WAR   WITH  PONTIAC 


"Father!  Dear  father  I  Speak  to  me.  It  is 
your  own  boy,  Donald!'*  cried  the  youth  in  pitiful 
accents,  as  he  raised  the  prostrate  form  in  his  arms. 
"Tell  me,  father,  who  has  done  this  thing." 

The  dying  man  opened  his  eyes,  and  fixed  them 
full  on  the  face  of  his  son.  For  a  few  seconds  he 
gazed  on  the  loved  features,  and  his  lips  moved  as 
in  a  blessing,  though  no  sound  came  from  them. 
Then,  with  a  smile  of  ineffable  sweetness,  and  a 
sigh  of  perfect  content,  the  light  faded  from  the  dear 
eyes,  and  tha  spirit  of  the  brave  old  soldier  passed 
gently  from  the  war-worn  body  into  the  fadeless 
dawn  of  eternity. 

Very  tenderly  did  Donald  lift  the  lifeless  body  of 
his  father  to  the  humble  pallet  that  had  been  the  sol- 
dier's bed  for  many  weeks.  Then  he  sat  beside  it, 
keeping  motionless  watch  over  his  dead,  while  Atoka 
stood  silently  in  the  doorway  guarding  the  grief  of 
his  friend  from  curious  intrusion. 


CHAPTER   XXXVII 


THE  CURSE  OF  THE  MAGIC   CIRCLE 


From  the  moment  that  Donald  Hester's  brave 
shout  of  warning  saved  the  schooner  Gladivyn  from 
capture,  he  was  like  one  who  sleeps,  until  he  awoke 
to  consciousness  amid  the  strange  surroundings  of  an 
Indian  lodge.  Soft  hands  were  bathing  his  throbbing 
brow,  and  when  he  opened  his  eyes  they  rested  on  a 
face  of  such  loveliness,  and  at  the  same  time  so  filled 
with  pity,  that  it  seemed  to  him  but  the  fairest  frag- 
ment of  a  beautiful  dream.  The  radiant  smile  that 
greeted  his  restoration  to  life  gave  the  face  a 
strangely  familiar  look;  but  he  was  too  weak  to 
remember  where  he  had  seen  it,  and  fell  asleep 
from  the  weariness  of  the  effort.  When  he  next 
awoke  he  was  much  stronger,  and  gazed  eagerly 
about  with  the  hope  that  the  face  might  prove  a 
reality;  but  nowhere  could  he  discover  it,  nor  did 
it  appear  to  him  again. 

He  was  devotedly  cared  for  by  an  old  squaw,  the 
most  skilled  nurse  in  all  the  Ottawa  tribe,  and  by  a 
young  warrior  whom  he  came  to  know  as  Atoka. 
Others  occasionally  visited  the  lodge,  but  never  the 
one  he  longed  to  see,  and  so  he  ftnally  decided  that 

287 


\ 


: 


288 


AT  WAR  WITH  PONTIAC 


the  face  had  indeed  come  to  him  in  a  dream  and 
not  in  reality. 

Aided  by  youth  and  the  magic  of  Indian  simples, 
Donald's  recovery  was  certain  and  rapid.  Atoka 
was  his  constant  companion,  and,  to  while  awry  the 
slow  hours,  each  taught  the  other  his  own  language. 
One  day  the  Indian  lad  made  mention  of  his  sister 
Ah-mo,  and  Donald  caught  eagerly  at  the  name. 
At  once  it  was  connected  with  his  vision  and  with 
a  long  ago  day  of  sunshine  on  the  river. 

"  Is  she  not  the  daughter  of  Pontiac?"  he  inquired. 

"Yes." 

"  Then  you  must  be  a  son  of  the  great  chief  ?  " 

**  I  am  his  son,"  replied  the  young  Indian,  proudly. 

"  Am  I,  then,  Pontiac's  prisoner  ?  " 

"  No.  One  bearing  the  sign  of  the  Metai  may  be 
Pontiac's  guest,  but  never  his  prisoner." 

"Ah,  yes!  I  forgot  my  symbolic  marking.  But 
tell  me,  Atoka,  was  not  your  sister  with  two  white 
women  on  an  island  not  long  since?" 

"She  was.  But  they  were  taken  to  Detroit  in 
exchange  for  prisoners  held  in  the  fort." 

In  saying  this  Atoka  believed  he  was  telling  the 
truth,  for  he  knew  not  that  Edith  still  remained  in 
the  Ottawa  village.  From  the  day  that  Donald  was 
placed  in  his  charge  he  had  not  left  the  island,  nor 
had  any  of  its  other  occupants,  save  occasionally  to 
hunt  or  fish,  for  Pontiac  did  not  wish  it  generally 
known  that  a  white  captive  was  held  there. 


THE  CURSE  OF  THE   MAGIC  CIRCLE 


289 


As  the  means  of  intelligent  intercourse  between 
the  young  men  increased,  Donald  learned  many 
other  things  of  which  he  had  been  ignorant,  and 
among  them  that  his  own  father  was  also  a  prisoner, 
or,  as  Atoka  said,  a  guest,  in  the  Ottawa  village. 

"  When  you  have  recovered  your  full  strength, 
then  am  I  to  take  you  to  him,  for  so  Pontiac  has 
ordered,"  added  Atoka. 

Thus  inspired  to  gain  strength,  Donald  did  so 
with  such  rapidity  that,  a  week  later,  he  was  able 
to  throw  Atoka  in  a  wrestling  match,  and  the  young 
warrior  sent  word  to  his  father  that  he  should  bring 
his  charge  to  the  village  on  the  following  day. 

Donald  was  so  excited  at  the  prospect  of  a  near 
reunion  with  his  beloved  parent,  that,  to  his  im- 
patience, no  hours  'ad  ever  seemed  so  long  as  did 
those  of  that  last  day  of  his  seclusion.  He  retired 
early  in  order  to  shorten  them  by  sleep,  but  was  wide 
awake  when  startled  by  the  sound  of  distant,  though 
heavy  and  continuous  firing. 

"  It  is  an  attack  on  the  Ottawa  village,"  he  said. 

"  Or  on  the  fort,"  answered  Atoka. 

Both  were  so  impatient  to  visit  the  scene  of  conflict 
that  neither  needed  to  be  reminded  of  their  purpose 
to  go  to  the  village  on  that  very  day.  So  in  a  few 
minutes  they  had  launched  a  canoe  and  set  forth,  with 
what  results,  we  have  already  learned. 

As  Donald  watched  beside  his  father's  body,  a  hand 
was  laid  on  his  shoulder,  and  one  whom  he  recognized 


I 


u 


290 


AT   WAR   WITH  PONTIAC 


as  Pontiac  stood  beside  him,  his  stern  face  softened 
by  sorrow. 

"  He  was  my  friend,"  said  the  chieftain.  "  I  loved 
him  with  a  love  that  was  more  than  that  of  a  brother. 
Now  that  he  has  gone,  night  has  fallen,  and  all  things 
are  hidden  in  darkness.  Long  years  ago  he  saved  my 
life,  and  in  so  doing  made  an  enemy  of  him  who  has 
now  taken  his  in  revenge.  This  man  is  a  dog  of  dogs, 
and  from  this  hour  he  is  outcast  among  the  children 
of  the  forest.  With  the  curse  of  the  Metai  shall  he 
be  cursed,  he  and  his  forever.  I,  Pontiac,  Chief  of 
the  Magic  Circle,  have  said  it." 

"  What  is  his  name,  and  where  may  he  be  found  ?  " 
asked  Donald,  eagerly. 

"  His  name  is  Mahng,  and  he  is  of  the  Ojibwas, 
though  where  he  may  be  found  I  know  not  yet.  But 
found  he  must  be,  for  not  only  is  he  the  murderer  of 
thy  father  and  my  friend,  and  a  traitor  to  all  in  whose 
veins  runs  Indian  blood,  but  he  has  stolen  and  taken 
with  him  those  most  dear  to  thee  and  to  me,  thy 
sister  and  my  daughter." 

"  What ! "  cried  Donald,  springing  to  his  feet.  "  My 
sister,  say  you  ?     Is  she  not  safe  in  the  fort  ?  " 

"No,"  answered  Pontiac,  sadly.  "For  safety  did 
I  keep  her  here,  with  her  father.  Now  is  she  gone, 
and  with  her  is  gone  Ah-mo,  my  daughter,  and  my 
right  hand.  To  recover  them,  and  to  avenge  this 
death,  I  miglit  command  the  Ottawa  nation  to  follow 
me,  and  they  would  obey.     I  might  destroy  the  Ojib- 


THE   CURSE   OF  THE   MAGIC  CIRCLE 


201 


was  from  the  face  of  the  earth,  but  it  may  not  be.  In 
a  private  quarrel  I  may  not  array  tribe  against  tribe. 
Nor  in  this  case  would  the  strength  of  a  war-party 
prove  of  such  value  as  the  cunning  of  two  men.  The 
one  is  doubtless  expected,  and  will  be  watched  for, 
while  the  others  may  pass  unnoticed.  Therefore 
have  I  selected  two  who  shall  be  intrusted  with  this 
mission  and  vengeance.  They  are  my  two  sons,  one 
of  whom  is  of  the  Totem  of  the  Bear,  and  the  other  of 
the  Totem  of  the  Beaver,  so  that  two  totems  shall  be 
matched  against  one,  for  Mahng  is  of  the  Totem  of 
the  Wolf.  One  of  them  is,  besides,  of  the  order  of 
Metai,  on  which  Mahng  has  no  claim." 

"  But  am  I  not  to  be  allowed  to  take  part  in  the 
rescue  of  my  own  sister?  Am  I  to  be  kept  here,  a 
misemble  captive,  while  others  do  the  work  that  is 
rightly  mine  ?  "  cried  Donald. 

"  My  son,"  replied  Pontiac,  again  laying  his  hand 
gently  on  the  young  man's  shoulder,  "  art  thou  not 
of  the  order  of  the  Metai,  and  of  my  totem,  the  Totem 
of  the  Bear?  Hast  thou  not  been  the  son  of  my 
heart  from  the  day  thy  baby  arms  clasped  my  neck 
and  saved  me  from  death?  I  had  no  thought  but 
that  thou  should  go  as  one  of  my  messengers,  and 
Atoka  shall  go  with  thee." 

So  it  was  planned  in  that  chamber  of  death.  After 
a  while  four  venerable  warriors,  all  of  the  Metai,  were 
summoned;  Atoka,  who  had  as  yet  performed  no 
deed  to  entitle  him  to  membership,  was  sent  outside 


292 


AT  WAR   WITH  PONTIAC 


fM 


f  •!}> 


to  guard  the  door ;  and,  in  the  presence  of  his  dead 
father,  Donald  Hester  was  initiated  into  the  dread 
secrets  of  the  magic  circle.  It  was  a  solemn  and  try- 
ing ordeal,  and  his  face  was  very  pale  when  it  was 
ended ;  but  his  mouth  was  firm-set  and  he  seemed  to 
have  gained  in  manliness  of  bearing. 

A  few  hours  later  the  body  of  Major  Hester, 
wrapped  in  the  flag  he  had  served  so  faithfully,  was 
laid  to  rest  in  the  presence  of  a  thousand  Indians, 
whose  friend  he  had  ever  been,  and  over  his  grave  a 
file  of  Ottawa  warriors  fired  the  echoing  volley  that 
betokened  their  respect  for  his  ran\. 

Then  was  Donald  led  away  to  Pontiac's  own  lodge, 
where,  in  pursuance  of  the  plan  already  formed,  his 
entire  body  was  stained  a  rich  coppery  brown  and  he 
was,  in  other  ways,  carefully  disguised  as  an  Ottawa 
warri  r.  It  was  given  out  that  Atoka  was  to  be  sent 
as  a  runner  to  announce  Pontiac's  recent  victory  to 
distant  tribes  and  to  solicit  their  aid  in  carrying  on 
the  war-  It  was  also  whispered  that  he  was  to  be 
accompanied  by  a  member  of  the  Metai,  who  should 
proclaim  the  dread  curse  of  the  magic  circle  against 
Mahng,  the  Ojibwa,  and  all  who  should  give  him 
aid.  As  the  proceedings  of  this  mysterious  order 
were  always  conducted  in  secret,  no  one  was  sur- 
prised that  the  identity  of  its  messenger  was  not 
disclosed,  nor  that  his  departure  should  be  made  at 
night  unseen  of  all  men  save  only  Pontiac,  chief  of 
the  Metai. 


THE  CURSE  OF  THE   MAGIC  CIRCLE 


293 


So  greatly  did  Mahng  dread  the  wrath  of  Pon- 
tiac,  that  from  the  firat  he  took  every  precaution  to 
conceal  the  traces  of  his  flight.  Thus  Donald  was 
obliged  to  set  forth  on  this  renewed  search  for  his 
lost  sister  without  an  idea  of  what  course  to  pursue. 
He  only  knew  that  the  country  of  the  Ojibwas  lay 
to  the  north,  and  so  in  this  direction  were  his  steps 
first  directed. 

For  many  weeks  did  he  and  Atoka  travel  by  land 
and  over  the  waters  of  the  Great  Lakes,  down  swift 
rushing  streams,  along  dim  trails  and  through  weary 
leagues  of  pathless  forest,  where  they  were  only 
guided  by  that  instinct  of  woodcraft  which,  in  an 
Indian,  ranks  with  the  keenest  of  his  senses.  To 
Saginaw  and  Thunder  Bay  they  went,  to  Michili- 
mackinac  and  L'abre  Croche,  even  to  the  far  northern 
Sault  of  Ste.  Marie,  without  findirg  those  whom  they 
sought.  In  every  Indian  village  and  camp,  in  every 
forest  lodge,  and  to  the  lone  hunter,  whenever  they 
crossed  his  trail,  did  they  proclaim  the  dread  message 
of  the  Metai  by  which  Mahng,  the  Ojibwa,  was  out- 
cast forever. 

The  uninitiated  listened  with  fear  and  trembling ; 
but  everywhere  they  found  grave  warriors  and  stately 
chiefs,  who  gave  the  answer  of  the  magic  circle :  — 

"  He  is  cursed.  Let  him  he  cursed^^'  and  did  every- 
thing possible  to  speed  their  errand. 

In  all  this  time  they  found  no  sign,  nor  until  they 
began  to  retrace  their  steps  did  they  gain  tidings  of 


till 


204 


AT   W.MJ    WITH    PONTIAO 


their  (|uest.  Now,  heio  and  tliere,  i\ivy  l)egan  to 
como  across  trembling  wrettrhes  who  liad  heeii  with 
Mahii^  on  that  fatal  niglit,  but  whom  tho  terrible, 
lar-reacliin^  (Mir.se  had  sinije  (hiven  terror-stricken 
from  him.  Of  tiiese  they  learned  that  he  had,  from 
the  first,  made  his  way  to  the  south  to  the  country 
of  the  Shawnees,  wlio  liad  at  first  received  him 
kindly.  Then,  as  the  dread  sentence  of  the  Metfii 
reached  those  remoter  parts,  he  was  driven  from 
cam[)  lo  camp  until  there  was  none  who  dared  give 
him  shelter  or  aid.  So  he  turned  to  the  far  west  with 
a  purpose  of  joining  the  fierce  Dacotahs  beyond  the 
great  river. 

Following  this  faint  clue,  Donald  and  Atoka 
crossed  Lake  Michigan,  jiscended  Green  bay  and 
the  swift  waters  of  the  Fox  until  they  could  portage 
into  the  wide  torrent  of  the  Wisconsin.  This  they 
purposed  to  descend  to  the  Mississippi,  on  whose 
banks  they  hoped  for  further  news. 

One  day  in  the  late  autumn  oney  came  to  a  place 
where  they  must  needs  carry  around  a  great  fall,  the 
roar  of  whose  plunging  waters  could  be  heard  for 
miles  through  the  silent  forest.  From  their  landing 
Donald  entered  the  narrow  trail  of  the  carry  first, 
bearing  the  canoe  on  his  head  and  shoulders,  while 
Atoka  followed  after  a  slight  delay,  with  their  rifles 
and  scanty  camp  equipage.  At  the  highest  point 
of  the  carry  the  pathway,  barely  wide  enough  for 
the  passage  of  two  persons,  skirted  the  very  brink 


^'! 


THE   CURSE   OF   THE   MAGIC   CIRCLE 


295 


of  the   awful   precipice   over  which   thundered   the 
cataract. 

Here  Donald  came  suddenly  face  to  face  with  a 
slight  figure,  bending  beneath  a  burden,  whom  he 
instantly  recognized  as  Ah-nio,  the  daughter  of  Pon- 
tiac.  At  the  same  moment  a  man  emerged  from 
behind  a  point  of  rock  a  few  paces  beyond  her, 
whom  Donald  knew  by  instinct  to  be  Mahng.  Hurl- 
ing his  burden  from  him,  careless  of  its  fate,  and 
shouting  the  anathema  of  the  Metai,  the  avenger 
sprang  past  the  crouching  girl  to  grapple  with  his 
mortal  foe.  But  the  latter  did  not  await  him.  With 
the  terrible  words  he  had  so  long  dreaded  to  hear 
ringing  in  his  ears,  he  turned  to  fly,  slipped  on  the 
wet  rocks,  clutched  wildly  at  the  empty  air,  and 
pitched  headlong  into  the  awful  depths  of  the  seeth- 
ing caldron  a  hundred  feet  below. 


1  i 


\»^J!»\l^aiUu. 


«■  ! 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII 

A    WINTER   IN   THE   WILDERNESS 

For  a  moment  Donald  stood  rooted  to  the  spot  by 
the  suddenness  and  awfulness  of  the  fate  that  had 
overtaken  his  enemy.  Then  like  a  flash  it  came  to 
him  that,  even  while  his  attention  was  wholly  cen- 
tred on  the  tragedy  just  enacted,  he  had  been  aware 
of  another  man  ascending  the  pathway  who  had 
turned  and  fled.  Was  he  then  to  be  robbed  of  the 
fruits  of  his  arduous  journeyings?  Was  Edith 
again  to  be  snatched  from  him  when  almost  within 
his  reach  ?  No,  not  if  he,  alone  and  unarmed,  were 
forced  to  battle  for  her  with  a  score  of  Mahng*s 
treacherous  followers.  So  thinking,  he  sprang  down 
the  steep  trail  with  a  reckless  disregard  of  every- 
thing save  the  necessity  of  gaining  its  further  end 
with  all  possible  speed. 

Less  than  a  minute  had  elapsed  since  he  first 
caught  sight  of  Mahng.  In  two  more  he  reached  the 
end  of  the  trail  beside  a  pool  of  dark  water  only 
to  find  the  place  untenanted.  Out  in  the  river,  still 
within  rifle-shot,  but  speeding  down  stream  as 
though  in  deadly  fear,  was  a  single  canoe  in  which 
were  three  persons.     Donald  felt  certain  that  two 

206 


A  WINTER  IN   THE    WILDERNESS 


207 


of  these  were  females.  Of  course  one  was  Edith, 
and  though  yet  within  sight,  she  was  as  liopelessly 
removed  from  him  as  though  they  were  separated 
by  leagues  instead  of  rods.  His  own  canoe  had 
gone  over  the  precipice,  there  was  no  trail  through 
the  dense  forest  growth  that  overhung  the  river 
bank,  and  if  there  were  lie  could  hardly  have  kept 
pace  with  that  fleeting  shado-y  out  in  the  swift  cur- 
rent. Yes,  Edith  was  again  lost  to  him,  and  as  the 
now  distant  canoe  rounded  a  bend  and  vanished  from 
his  sight,  the  young  man  threw  himself  on  the 
ground,  overcome  by  a  dumb  despair. 

From  this  state  he  was  roused  by  the  sound  of 
footsteps,  and  of  a  soft  voice  saying,  "  Donald  Hes- 
ter." He  sprang  to  his  feet  to  find  Ah-mo  and 
Atoka  standing  before  him.  The  former  was  thin 
and  worn  as  though  with  weariness  and  anxiety, 
and,  though  her  face  was  now  lighted  by  the  radi- 
ance of  a  transition  from  despair  to  a  new  hope, 
much  of  its  former  beauty  was  wanting.  She  was 
holding  out  a  hand  and  saying:  — 

"Donald  Hester,  I  did  not  know  who  you  were 
until  Atoka  came  and  told  me.  But  I  did  know 
that  you  saved  my  life,  for  so  great  was  my  misery 
and  despair  that  in  another  minute  I  should  have 
ended  both  by  an  act  that  I  now  shudder  to  recall. 
So  I  thank  you,  Donald  Hester,  who  art  now  become 
my  brother,  since  Pontiac  claims  you  for  a  son." 

"I   did  nothing  worthy  of  thanks,   Ah-mo,   my 


9 
I* 


I 

u 

i 

ft 

a- 


I 

I 

i 


298 


AT   WAR   WITH  PONTIAC 


m. 


sister,"  imswered  Donald,  bitterly,  "and  now  that 
Edith  is  again  lost  to  me,  1  feel  that  I  have  done 
worse  than  nothing.  But  tell  me  of  her.  Is  she 
well?  and  what  treatment  does  she  receive  at  the 
Iiands  of  Mahng's  ruffians?" 

"I  know  not,'*  replied  Ah-mo,  sadly,  "for  it  is 
now  many  weeks  since  we  were  cruelly  separated, 
and  whither  she  was  taken  I  have  no  knowledge." 

"What?"  cried  Donald,  "was  she  not  with  you 
on  this  very  spot  but  a  f  3W  minutes  since  ?  and  did 
I  not  see  her  borne  despairingly  away  in  a  cauoe 
that  is  but  just  lost  to  sight?" 

"  No,  there  was  none  with  me  save  Mahng  and  his 
brother  and  their  wives.  We  have  travelled  long 
and  wearily  since  Edith  was  torn  from  my  arms, 
and  of  her  fate  I  know  nothing.  I  was  being  taken 
to  the  north  that  I  might  marry  Suggema,  the  son 
of  Mahng,  who  believed  that  my  father  would  thus 
be  compelled  to  withdraw  his  curse." 

"And  did  you  wish  for  this  marriage?"  asked 
Donald,  curiously. 

"Did  I  not  say  that  I  was  on  the  point  of  throw- 
ing myself  from  yonder  cliff  to  escape  the  misery  of 
such  a  thing?" 

"Forgive  me,  my  sister,"  said  the  young  man, 
humbly.  "I  had  no  cause  to  doubt  you,  nor  do  I. 
It  was  a  thoughtless  question." 

With  their  mission  thus  partly  fulfilled,  Donald 
and  Atoka  were  confronted  by  the  serious  problem 


V' 


A  WINTER   IN  THE   WILDERNESS 


299 


of  what  move  to  make  next.  The  season  was  near- 
ing  winter.  In  a  short  time  the  streams  would  be 
frozen,  and  the  forest  trails  choked  with  snow. 
They  had  no  canoe  and  it  was  too  late  in  the  year 
to  peel  bark  with  which  to  construct  one.  Their 
supply  of  food  was  scanty,  and  very  soon  the  game 
on  which  they  were  wholly  dependent  would  dis- 
appear from  that  part  of  the  country.  Then,  too, 
Ah-mo's  L^^rength  was  so  nearly  spent  that  she 
was  in  no  condition  for  rough  travel,  even  had 
they  the  means  to  go  and  a  knowledge  of  what 
direction  to  take.  So,  after  a  long  discussion,  it 
was  reluctantly  decided  that  they  must  remain 
where  they  were  until  the  coming  of  spring  with 
its  flowing  sap  should  enable  them  to  build  another 
canoe,  and  resume  their  search  for  Donald's  sister. 
The  succeeding  weeks  were  filled  with  busy  and 
arduous  toil.  A  winter  in  that  latitude,  where  the 
mercury  often  falls  to  20°  and  even  30°  below  zero, 
can  only  be  successfully  encountered  after  elaborate 
preparation,  and  the  little  company  who  now  found 
themselves  stranded  on  the  verge  of  that  vast  north- 
ern forest,  had  everything  to  do,  with  but  slight 
means  and  scanty  time.  The  followers  of  Mahng 
had  abandoned  many  things  in  their  hasty  flight 
which  now  proved  of  the  utmost  value,  and  a  wel- 
come addition  to  the  limited  outfit  of  Donald  and 
Atoka.  Among  these  things  were  several  blan- 
kets, an  axe,  and  a  few  rude  cooking-utensils. 


300 


AT   WAR   WITH  PONTIAC 


fi  -S 


These  tlioy  removed  to  the  spot  selected  for  their 
winter  home,  iibout  ii  mile  from  the  river  on  the  bank 
of  a  small  stream  that  flowed  into  it  and  nciir  by  a 
pond  formed  by  an  old  and  very  large  beaver  dam. 
Here,  before  night  of  that  first  day,  a  snug  hut  of 
bark  was  erected  for  Ah-mo's  accommodation,  and 
from  here  the  young  men  set  forth  the  next  morning 
on  the  busiest  season  of  hunting  and  trapping  in 
which  either  of  them  had  ever  engaged.  Every- 
thing that  wore  fur  or  feathers  and  could  furnish 
meat  to  be  smoked  or  dried  for  future  use  was 
eagerly  sought.  Their  success  was  phenomenal. 
Deer,  bear,  turkeys,  and  geese  fell  before  their 
rifles,  while  their  traps,  in  the  construction  of 
which  Atoka  was  a  past-master,  yielded  beaver, 
otter,  muskrat,  and  raccoons. 

Within  a  month  they  had  collected  such  a  quan- 
tity of  meat  and  skins  as  assured  them  against  both 
hunger  and  cold  between  then  and  spring.  Now 
they  turned  their  attention  to  a  house,  and,  with 
only  their  ready  axes  for  tools,  they  had  one  finished 
two  weeks  lyter  that  they  surveyed  with  genuine 
pleasure  and  pardonable  pride.  It  was  of  logs, 
notched  and  fitted  together  at  the  corners,  twelve  feet 
square  and  with  walls  six  feet  high.  It  was  chinked 
with  moss,  had  a  tight  floor  of  hewed  cedar  planks, 
a  roof  of  hemlock  bark,  a  chimney  and  fireplace  of 
stones  cemented  with  blue  clay  and  sand,  two  small 
windows  covered  with  scraped  and  tightly  stretched 


A  WINTER   IN  THE   WILDERNESS 


301 


intestines  taken  from  a  deer,  and  a  stout  door  hnng 
on  wooden  hinges. 

The  hut  was  hardly  ready  for  occupancy  before 
the  winter  storms  set  in  and  the  whole  forest  world 
was  buried  in  snow.  Still  the  inmates  of  "Castle 
Beaver,"  as  Donald  named  their  cosy  dwelling,  were 
by  no  means  idle  nor  did  an  hour  of  time  hang 
heavily  on  their  hands  for  lack  of  occupation. 
Ah-mo  had  gathered  an  immense  supply  of  flags 
and  sedge  grass,  from  which  she  not  only  braided 
enough  of  the  matting,  so  commonly  used  among 
the  northern  tribes,  to  enclose  her  own  corner  of 
the  hut,  but  to  cover  all  the  interior  walls  as  well. 
The  floor  was  warmly  spread  with  skins,  from  which 
their  couches  were  also  formed. 

Besides  always  adding  to  the  comforts  of  their 
home,  they  found  plenty  of  indoor  work  in  the  way 
of  cutting  out  buckskin  and  fur  garments  wh:ch 
were  sewed  with  deer  sinew,  the  making  of  snow- 
shoes  and  wooden  bowls,  and  the  braiding  of  mats. 
For  recreation  Donald  told  tales  of  the  great  world 
beyond  the  sea,  Ah-mo  related  incidents  of  her  life 
in  Montreal,  and  Atoka  recalled  many  a  weird  In- 
dian legend.  They  also  played  simple  games. 
Atoka  was  taught  to  read  and  write  from  copies  set 
by  Donald,  while  all  three  improved  their  knowl- 
edge of  English,  French,  and  several  Indian  dia- 
lects. For  outside  work  there  were  traps  to  be 
visited,  snow  to  be  cleared  from  the  path  leading  to 


302 


AT   WAR   WITH   PONTIAC 


the  river,  the  water  hole  through  the  ice  to  be 
chopped  out.  every  day,  water  to  be  fetched,  wood 
to  be  cut  for  the  roaring  fireplace,  fish  to  be  caught 
through  the  ice  in  the  pond,  and  an  occasional  hunt 
to  be  taken  after  fresh  meat. 

In  all  this  busy  life  Ah-mo,  who  had  fully  re- 
covered her  strength  and  beauty,  was  ever  the  lead- 
ing spirit.  At  the  same  time  she  was  so  modest 
and  intelligent,  so  cheerful  and  uncomplaining,  that 
Donald  regarded  her  with  ever-increasing  respect 
and  admiration. 

"If  Edith  were  only  with  us,"  he  would  sigh,  "I 
think  I  should  be  content  to  dwell  here  for  the  rest 
of  my  life,"  whereat  Ah-mo  would  laugh  and  bid 
him  be  cautious  how  he  made  such  rash  statements. 
Never  a  day  passed  but  what  they  talked  of  Edith 
and  planned  their  search  for  her.  Donald,  too,  often 
spoke  of  his  dear  friend  Christie,  who,  he  declared, 
was  the  one  white  man  of  his  acquaintance  with 
whom  he  would  be  willing  to  share  this  pleasant 
forest  life. 

At  length  the  winter  came  to  an  end.  The  south 
winds  began  to  blow,  the  snow  to  melt,  the  ice 
to  break  up,  the  wild  geese  to  fly  northward  in 
V-shaped  companies,  and  the  sap  to  run  in  the  trees. 
While  the  snow  was  still  on  the  ground,  they 
gathered  sap  from  the  rock  maples  and  boiled  it  into 
a  plentiful  supply  of  sugar.  After  that  came  the 
building  of  a  canoe  and  the  fashioning  of  its  paddles. 


A  WINTER   IN  THE   WILDERNESS 


ms 


It  was  witli  higli  hopes,  but  at  the  aame  time  with 
genuine  regret,  that,  late  in  May,  they  bade  farewell 
to  their  winter  home,  launched  a  canoe,  deep- 
laden  with  their  accumulated  stock  of  iurs,  and 
started  southward  on  the  swift  waters  of  the  Wis- 
consin. For  weeks  they  floated  with  its  current, 
and  on  the  mighty  volume  of  the  Mississippi.  At 
the  newly  established  trading-post  of  St.  Louis 
they  exchanged  tl.eir  furs  for  annnunition  and  such 
goods  as  they  needed,  but  at  such  extortionate  rates 
as  made  Donald's  blood  boil  with  anger. 

Here,  for  the  lirst  time  in  many  months,  they  met 
white  men,  but  none  of  these  suspected  for  a  moment 
that  Donald  was  aught  but  the  Indian  he  appeared, 
nor  did  he  undeceive  them,  and  after  a  short  stay 
their  journey  was  resumed.  It  was  still  south- 
ward to  the  Ohio,  then  up  that  river  and  the  Wa- 
bash to  the  place  where  Ah-mo  and  Edith  had  been 
separated.  Here,  with  all  their  efforts,  they  could 
only  learn  that  the  white  girl  had  been  taken  to  the 
eastward  into  the  country  of  the  Delawares.  So 
they  patiently  retraced  their  course  down  the  wind- 
ing Wabash,  and  then  continued  their  way  up  the 
Ohio  to  the  Scioto  and  the  Muskingum,  stepping 
to  make  inquiries  at  every  Indian  camp  and  village 
through  all  that  vast  territory.  Sometimes  they 
seemed  to  find  a  clue,  but  it  was  always  quickly 
lost,  and  toward  the  end  of  tlie  summer  they  were 
well-nigh  despairing.     Only  Ah-mo  remained  cheer- 


304 


AT  WAR  Wirn  rONTIAC 


fully  hopeful  and  ever  urged  the  others   to  fresh 
efforts. 

At  length,  in  September,  they  learned  the  star- 
tling news  that  a  great  English  army  was  descending 
the  Ohio  from  Fort  Pitt,  and  that  its  commander, 
Colonel  Bouquet,  had  summoned  all  the  Indians 
of  that  region  to  meet  him  on  the  Muskingum. 
There  they  were  to  deliver  to  him  every  white  captive 
whom  they  held  and  sign  a  treaty  of  peace,  or  else 
he  would  ravage  their  country  with  fire  and  bullet. 
From  the  moment  he  heard  of  this  Donald  deter- 
mined to  attend  that  great  gathering,  and  his  com- 
panions willingly  consented  to  accompany  him. 


resh 


J  tar- 
ling 
der, 
ians 
um. 
tive 
else 
llet. 
iter- 
om- 


CIIAPTEU   XXXTX 

AN   ADOPTED   DAUnilTEU   OF  THE   FOREST 

So  ft)rgetful  had  the  people  of  Pennsylvania 
becoKio  of  the  example  of  their  great  founder  that 
they  systematically  robbed,  cheated,  and  ninrdered 
the  unfortunate  Indians  with  whom  they  liad  deal- 
ings, until,  fired  by  the  eloquence  of  Pontiac,  tliese 
rose  in  rebellion  and  began  a  fierce  war  of  revenge. 
Now  the  panic-stricken  traders  and  frontier  settlers, 
who  were  directly  responsible  for  this  state  of  affairs, 
demanded  that  a  bounty  be  offered  for  Indian  scalps. 
By  their  clamor  they  at  length  forced  the  English 
governor  of  the  colony  to  yield  to  their  demands  and 
sign  the  infamous  bill.  It  provided  that  a  reward 
averaging  one  hundred  dollars  be  pjiid  for  the  scalp 
of  every  Indian,  man,  woman,  or  child,  killed  within 
the  limits  of  the  province.  Upon  the  issuing  of  this 
proclamation,  to  quote  a  leading  historian,  "  an  era  of 
carnage  ensued,  during  which  the  worst  acts  of  Indian 
ferocity  were  thrown  into  the  shade  by  the  enormities 
of  white  barbarians." 

Dwelling  in  a  Shawnee  village  at  this  time  was  an 
English  soldier  named  David  Owens,  who  had  de- 
serted from  Braddock's  army  ten  years  before  and 
X  306 


806 


AT   WAR   WITH    PONTIAC 


joined  tho  Indians.  Ho  had  hecMi  kindly  received, 
adopted  into  tlie  tribe,  liad  niariied  tlie  daughter  of  a 
chief,  and  become  tlie  fathc^r  of  two  children.  With 
the  prospect  of  gaining  a  reward  for  Indian  scalps,  all 
the  cupidity  of  this  man's  fiendish  nature  was  aroused, 
and  on  the  approach  of  Bouquet's  army  he  conceived 
a  plan  for  enriching  himself  and  at  the  same  time 
escaping  the  punishment  due  him  as  a  deserter. 
While  meditating  it  he  found  himself  encamped  one 
night  with  two  warriors,  his  own  wife,  another 
woman,  and  his  two  children.  Toward  morning  he 
arose,  and  seeing  by  the  dim  light  of  the  camp-fire 
that  the  others  were  buried  in  profound  sleep,  he 
placed  two  rifles  so  that  their  muzzles  were  close  to 
the  heads  of  the  unconscious  warriors  and  pulled  both 
triggers  at  the  same  instant.  Then,  with  hatchet  and 
knife,  he  deliberately  despatched  the  women  and 
children,  who  cowered  about  him  in  helpless  terror. 
With  the  horrible  evidences  of  his  crime  dangling 
from  his  belt  he  then  set  forth  for  the  nearest  English 
outpost.  Here  he  was  not  only  paid  for  his  scalps, 
but  pardoned  for  his  desertion  and  given  a  com- 
mission as  interpreter  in  Bouquet's  army. 

So  infuriated  were  the  inmates  of  the  village  to 
which  the  victims  of  this  outrage  belonged,  that,  in 
retaliation,  they  determined  to  put  to  death  six  white 
captives  who  happened  to  be  in  their  power.  These 
were  to  be  tortured  on  so  many  successive  days. 
Five  of  them  suffered  their  dreadful  fate  before  the 


AN   APOPTED   OAUCniTKR   (►F  TIIK    FOREST       307 


eyes  of  the  sixth,  and,  iit  length,  it  came  his  turn  to 
be  led  to  the  stake.  Ho  was  a  stalwart,  handsome 
fellow,  who  had  been  hold  as  a  slave  for  more  than 
a  year.  He  had  refused  several  oifers  of  adoption, 
preferring  to  retain  the  privilege  of  effecting  an 
escape,  if  he  could,  to  pledging  his  loyalty  to  the 
tribe.  So,  as  a  slave,  he  had  been  made  to  toil  early 
and  late  for  his  savage  masters.  Now,  having  fruit- 
lessly exhausted  every  means  of  escape,  as  well  as 
his  powers  of  pleading  for  his  own  life,  he  deter- 
mined to  meet  his  fate  as  bravely  as  became  a  British 
soldier.  With  a  rope  about  his  neck,  and  a  face 
betraying  no  trace  of  the  horror  and  despair  that 
filled  his  sorl,  he  walked  cahnly  through  the  jeering 
throng  of  spectators  to  the  fatal  stake. 

The  rope  was  already  made  fast  to  it,  and  the 
signal  for  the  first  act  of  the  dreadful  drama  was 
about  to  be  given,  when  a  fair-haired  girl,  mounted 
on  a  pony,  dashed  through  the  crowd,  scattering  it 
to  right  and  left.  She  severed  the  rope  that  bound 
the  motionless  captive  to  the  tree  of  death,  and  then, 
wheeling  about,  delivered,  with  flashing  eyes  and 
bitter  tongue,  a  harangue  in  the  Indian  language 
that  caused  her  hearers  to  hang  their  heads  in 
shame.  She  termed  them  cowards  for  visiting  their 
vengeance  on  innocent  and  helpless  captives,  and 
fearlessly  bade  them  begone  from  her  sight,  ere  she 
called  down  the  wrath  of  the  Great  Spirit  on  their 
heads. 


308 


AT  WAR   WITH  PONTIAC 


As  the  abashed  savages  slunk  away  before  the 
sting  of  her  burning  words,  the  girl,  trembling  with 
excitement,  slid  from  her  pony's  back  to  the  ground. 
Instantly  the  strong  arm  of  him  whom  she  had 
rescued  was  offered  for  her  support,  and  she  was 
electrified  by  the  sound  of  her  own  name,  which  she 
had  not  heard  for  many  months. 

"  I  thank  you,  Edith  Hester,  for  my  life,"  said  the 
young  man,  simply. 

For  a  moment  she  stared  at  him  bewildered. 
Then,  with  a  flash  of  recognition,  she  answered:  — 

"  And  I  thank  God  that  he  has  granted  me  t^e 
privilege  of  saving  it,  James  Christie." 

When  Edith  was  borne  away  captive  by  Mahng, 
the  Ojibwa,  he  maliciously  told  her  of  her  father's 
death  and  that  her  brother  had  also  been  killed  by 
Pontiac's  express  order.  Having  burdened  himself 
with  this  prisoner,  on  the  impulse  of  the  moment, 
Mahng  was  soon  embarrassed  as  to  how  he  should 
dispose  of  her.  He  dared  not  kill  her,  for  he  con- 
templated seekhig  an  alliance  with  the  English.  At 
the  same  time,  she  proved  a  decided  encumbrance 
on  his  rapid  journeyings.  Thus  when  he  discovered 
that  the  wife  of  Custaloga,  a  Sliawnee  chief,  who  had 
recently  lost  her  only  daughter,  was  willing  to  adopt 
Edith  in  her  place,  he  gladly  relinquished  his  fair 
prisoner. 

Custaloga  and  his  wife  and  his  sons  were  so  proud 
of  the  beautiful  white  girl,  whom  they  now  claimed 


AN  ADOPTED  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  FOREST       309 

as  daughter  and  sister,  and  treated  her  with  such 
unvarying  kindness  that  before  long  she  became 
really  attached  to  them.  As  she  reflected  that  with 
her  own  father  and  brother  dead,  her  former  life  had 
no  longer  a  claim  on  her,  she  grew  reconciled  to  that 
of  the  forest,  and  determined  to  make  the  best  of  her 
situation.  So  she  devoted  herself  to  learning  the 
language  of  her  new  people,  and  before  long,  by  her 
fearlessness  and  strength  of  character,  coupled  with 
many  acts  of  kindness,  gained  a  decided  influence 
over  them. 

She  was  always  a  friend  of  the  white  captives 
among  the  Shawnees  and  succeeded  in  lightening 
many  of  their  burdens.  At  length,  while  on  a  jour- 
ney with  her  adopted  mother  and  youngest  brother, 
she  heard  of  the  terrible  tragedy  even  then  being 
enacted  in  a  Shawnee  village  only  a  few  miles  from 
where  they  were  encamped.  Fired  with  horror  and 
pity,  she  impulsively  sprang  on  her  pony  and  dashed 
away  in  the  direction  of  the  village,  which  she 
reached  just  in  time  to  save  the  life  of  James  Christie. 

Ere  she  left  the  village,  she  obtained  a  pledge  from 
the  warriors  of  that  band  that  his  life  should  not  again 
be  endangered  at  their  hands,  and  that  in  the  future  he 
should  be  well  treated.  Then,  promising  to  see  him 
again  when  they  should  come  back  that  way,  Edith 
bade  the  young  soldier  farewell  and  returned  to  the 
lodge  that  was  now  her  home.  From  that  moment 
she  was  conscious  of  a  change  in  her  feelings,  and  of 


J 


310 


AT  WAR  WITH  PONTIAC 


a  longing  for  the  life  of  her  own  people  which  was 
already  beginning  to  seem  strange  and  remote. 

It  so  happened  that  Edith  and  Christie  did  not 
meet  again  until  at  the  great  gathering  of  the  Ohio 
valley  Indians  and  their  captives,  held  on  the  banks 
of  the  beautiful  Muskingum  by  order  of  Colonel 
Bouquet.  Edith  was  brought  in  first,  and  though 
she  protested  that  aUk>  had  no  desire  to  leave  her 
adopted  parents,  she  was  so  warmly  welcomed  by 
the  commander  and  his  officers,  many  of  whom  had 
known  both  her  father  and  brother,  that  she  gradu- 
ally allowed  herself  to  be  persuaded  to  a  renewed 
trial  of  civilization.  So  strange  seemed  the  dress 
with  which  she  was  provided  by  the  matrons,  who  ac- 
companied the  expedition  for  the  express  purpose  of 
caring  for  the  female  captives,  that  for  days  she  would 
only  consent  to  wear  it  for  an  hour  or  so  at  a  time. 

All  this  while  there  was  daily  witnessed  in  Bou- 
quet's camp  some  of  the  most  pathetic  scenes  of  that 
strange  war,  the  bringing  in  of  hundreds  of  captives 
of  both  sexes  and  all  ages,  and  the  eager  search 
among  thera  of  husbands,  brothers,  or  sons  for  lost 
relatives.  Many  of  those  thus  brought  in  had  been 
born  among  the  Indians  or  had  lived  with  them  for 
so  long  as  to  forget  their  own  people.  These  clung 
piteously  to  their  savage  friends,  begging  that  they 
might  not  be  separated  from  them,  and  a  number  of 
these  afterward  effected  an  escape  from  the  soldiers, 
in  order  to  return  to  their  beloved  forest  homes. 


AN  ADOPTED  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  FOREST   311 

As  group  after  group  came  in,  Edith  Hester  scanned 
them  eagerly  in  search  of  a  familiar  face.  At  length 
she  saw  it,  and  her  eyes  lighted  with  pleasure  as  she 
and  Christie  again  met.  He  was  escorted  by  two 
venerable  warriors,  one  of  whom  was  the  father  of 
the  woiT^an  whose  white  husband  had  slain  her  for 
her  scalp.  While  Edith  and  Christie  were  eagerly 
talking,  this  Indian  standing  quietly  near  them  sud- 
denly uttered  an  exclamation  of  rage,  raised  his  rifle 
and  fired  at  a  white  man  who  was  passing.  It  was 
the  miscreant,  David  Owens ;  and  as  he  fell  dead 
the  whole  camp  was  instantly  in  an  uproar.  The 
unresisting  avenger  would  have  been  killed  on  the 
spot  but  for  the  determined  protection  of  Edith  and 
Christie.  As  it  was,  he  was  placed  under  arrest  and 
held  for  trial  on  the  following  day.  ' 

At  this  trial,  after  Christie's  testimony  and  that  of 
several  Indians  had  been  taken,  Edith  Hester  deliv- 
ered such  a  passionate  and  convincing  plea  in  behalf 
of  the  venerable  warrior  who  had  thus  avenged  the 
foul  murder  of  his  daughter  and  grandchildren  that, 
to  the  gratification  of  the  entire  assembly.  Bouquet 
ordered  him  to  be  acquitted  and  set  free. 

With  the  happy  ending  of  this  trial,  while  Edith 
was  surrounded  by  a  group  of  officers  and  receiving 
their  congratulations,  a  young  Indian  forced  his  way 
through  the  circle,  gave  one  searching  look  at  the 
girl's  face,  and  with  an  almost  inarticulate  cry  of 
"  Edith ! "   threw  his  arms  about  her  in  a  joyful 


312 


\"C  WAR   WITH  rONTIAC 


embrace.  Tlie  scandalized  officers  were  about  to  lay 
violent  hands  on  the  young  savage,  when  to  their 
amazement,  they  saw  that  her  arms  were  about  his 
neck,  and  that  with  her  fair  head  on  his  shoulder  she 
was  sobbing  hysterically. 

In  another  moment  Christie  had  seized  one  of  his 
hands  and  was  proclaiming  the  astounding  news  that 
the  young  Indian  was  none  other  than  Donald  Hes- 
ter, ensign  in  His  Majesty's  regiment  of  Royal  Ameri- 
cans, and  long  since  reported  dead. 

For  nearly  half  an  hour  the  excited  group  exchanged 
an  uninterrupted  stream  of  questions  and  congratu- 
lations, mingled  with  laughter  and  tears.  Then  it 
began  to  move  slowly  in  the  direction  of  headquartera. 

All  this  time  there  had  been  standing  a  short  dis- 
tance away  an  Indian  youth,  and  an  Indian  maiden 
whose  beauty  attracted  much  attention  and  many 
outspoken  remarks  from  the  soldiers  who  sauntered 
past  with  rude  stares  and  ruder  laughter.  The  girl 
flushed,  glanced  about  her  indignantly,  and  finally 
as  Edith  and  Donald  began  to  move  away,  said  in  a 
low  tone  to  her  companion :  — 

"  Let  us  go.  They  have  no  thought  for  us.  We 
are  no  longer  wanted." 

So  they  disappeared;  and  when,  a  little  later, 
Donald  came  back  in  eager  search  for  Ah-mo  and 
Atoka,  they  were  nowhere  to  be  found  nor  could  he 
gain  any  information  concerning  them. 


so 
O 
n< 
E 

f( 
t 
f 

s 
1 


lay 
[heir 
his 
she 

his 

that 

fes- 

leri- 


CHAPTER  XL 

THE  PRINCESS  ANSWERS   DONALD 's  QUESTION 

While  the  army  of  Bouquet  was  operating  in  the 
south  and  reducing  to  submission  the  tribes  of  the 
Ohio  valley,  another  force  under  command  of  Colo- 
nel Bradstreet,  skirted  the  southern  shore  of  Lake 
Erie,  destroying  Lidian  villages  wherever  they  were 
found  and  finally  reached  Fort  Detroit.  Thus  was 
the  long  siege  of  that  frontier  post  raised,  and  after 
fifteen  months  of  close  confinement  within  its  pali- 
sades the  weary  garrison  were  once  more  free  to  vent- 
ure forth,  without  the  risk  of  being  ambushed  by  an 
ever  vigilant  foe.  Treaties  were  signed  with  all  the 
chiefs  of  that  region,  save  only  Pontiac,  who,  filled 
with  bitter  grief  at  the  failure  of  the  great  project 
to  which  he  had  devoted  the  energies  of  his  life, 
sullenly  retired  to  his  forest  stronghold  on  the 
Maumee.  From  there  he  gave  out,  that  if  by  spring 
he  had  not  raised  a  sufficient  force  to  renew  his 
struggle  against  the  hated  redcoats,  then  would  he 
visit  Sir  William  Johnson,  whom  alone  he  recog- 
nized as  representing  the  English  king,  and  sign 
a  treaty. 

So  it  happened  that  the  great  chief,  accompanied 

313 


■■a»«i«.-.».  ■.^-.»,..,.,^ 


314 


AT   WAR    WITH  PONTIAC 


by  such  a  retinue  as  became  his  rank,  presented 
liimself  before  the  walls  of  Fort  Oswego  early  in  the 
following  June  and  was  saluted  hy  a  salvo  of  artil- 
lery. Sir  William  had  journeyed  that  far  to  meet 
him,  and  here  the  treaty  wiis  signed  by  which  Pon- 
tiac  bound  liimself  to  fight  no  more  against,  tlie 
English.  After  the  formalities  were  concluded, 
the  Ottawa  chieftain  remained  in  that  vicinity. for 
several  weeks  as  the  guest  of  the  governor. 

About  this  time  the  Bulleus  reached  New  York 
from  a  flying  trip  to  Oswego,  where  the  paymaster 
had  been  summoned  on  business.  Madam  Bullen, 
whom  we  have  long  known  as  Madam  Rothsay, 
always  accompanied  her  husband  on  such  journeys. 
She  declared  that  both  he  and  "Tummas,"  who  had 
long  since  been  reluctantly  surrendered  by  the  Indi- 
ans, were  so  incapable  of  caring  for  themselves  in  the 
wilderness,  that  her  presence  was  absolutely  neces- 
sary to  protect  them  from  its  dangers. 

To  this  the  little  paymaster  answered  that  the 
wilderness  had  no  dangers  save  such  as  could  be 
overcome  by  a  man  of  brains  and  ingenuity,  but  that 
he  was  always  glad  to  have  Madam  Bullen  accom- 
pany him  on  his  trips,  and  thereby  escape,  for  a 
while,  the  perilous  cares  and  anxieties  of  city  Life. 

From  this  Oswego  trip,  which  had  to  do  with  pro- 
viding a  great  quantity  of  presents  for  Pontiac  and 
his  followers,  they  returned  to  their  spacious  town 
house  on  the  Bowling  Green  in  time  to  give  a  grand 


THE   PRINCESS  ANSWERS   DONALD'S  QUESTION     31P 

hall  on  the  eve  of  Edith  Hester's  wedding  to  Lien- 
tenant  James  Christie. 

Donald  was  in  town,  of  course,  and  would  appear 
in  uniform  for  the  last  time  at  this  hall,  as  he  had 
resigned  from  the  army  in  order  to  devote  his  whole 
attention  to  the  great  estate  left  by  his  father. 

"  When  I  rebuild  Tawtry  House,  1  shall  want  you 
and  Edith  to  come  and  live  with  me,"  he  said  to 
Christie,  "for  without  you  the  loneliness  will  be 
horrible." 

"I'm  afraid  you'll  have  to  bear  it,  old  man,  for 
I'm  not  inclined  to  give  up  soldiering  yet  awhile, 
and  especially  so  soon  after  promotion,"  replied  the 
lieutenant,  with  a  laugh.  "But  you  can  easily 
banish  loneliness  by  installing  a  mistress  in  Tawtry 
House.  I'm  sure  there  are  plenty  of  pretty  girls  in 
New  York  who  would  fill  the  position  charmingly." 

"Perhaps  there  are,"  answered  Donald,  indiffei'- 
ently.  "I  must  confess,  though,  that  I  have  yet  to 
meet  one  of  them  whom  I  could  fancy  presiding 
gracefully  over  the  hospitalities  of  a  forest  castle." 

In  truth  Donald  had  not  enjoyed  his  season  of 
New  York  life,  and  was  ever  drawing  ur; favorable 
comparisons  between  it  and  his  previous  winter 
spent  so  happily  in  a  wilderness  hut,  amid  the 
mighty  forests  of  the  distant  Wisconsin.  He  rarely 
alluded  to  those  days  now,  but  in  his  heart  of  hearts 
he  fondly  clierished  their  memories. 

Had  the  ball  given  by  the  BuUens  been  in  honor 


310 


AT  WAR   WITH  PONTIAC 


of  any  person  save  his  own  dear  sister,  Donald 
would  have  excused  himself  from  attendance,  so 
weary  was  he  of  such  festivities.  As  it  was,  he 
dropped  in  very  late,  when  the  dancing  wiis  at  its 
height,  and  stood  for  a  while  listlessly  watching  the 
gay  scene  from  one  of  the  entrances  to  the  ball-room. 
Suddenly  he  started  and  leaned  eagerly  forward. 
A  girl  with  the  bearing  of  a  princess  had  just  swept 
past  him,  leaning  on  the  arm  of  General  Gage,  com- 
mander-in-chief of  His  Majesty's  forces  in  America. 
She  was  robed  in  corn-colored  silk  and  wore  a  string 
of  great  pearls  twined  in  the  jetty  braids  of  her  hair. 
As  her  dress  brushed  Donald,  he  seemed  to  feel  the 
breath  of  the  forest  on  his  cheek. 

"  Who  is  she  ?  "  he  asked  of  a  young  officer  stand- 
ing beside  him. 

"  Who  ?  Oh  I  The  girl  the  general  is  so  taken 
with?  The  belle  of  the  evening?  The  sensation 
of  the  hour  ?  Surely  you  don't  need  to  be  told  who 
she  is  ?  " 

"But  I  do,"  replied  Donald,  impatiently;  "for  I 
have  only  just  come." 

"Ah I  Well  then,  she  is—  To  tell  you  the 
truth,  I  don't  know  exactly  who  she  is,  except  that 
she  is  an  Indian  princess  from  the  far  west,  and  some 
say  that  she  is  the  daughter  of  Pontiac  himself. 
But  she  was  educated  in  France,  and  all  that  sort  of 
thing,  you  know.  They  say  she  is  worth  —  "  Here 
the  speaker  paused,  for  his  listener  had  departed. 


THE   PRINCESS  ANSWERS  DONAT.B'S  QUESTION     ni7 

Shortly  tifterwards,  Donald  Hester  was  the  most 
envied  man  in  the  room ;  for  the  beauty  of  the  ball 
was  leaning  on  his  arm,  smiling  up  in  his  face  and 
talking  to  him  with  all  the  familiarity  of  old  ac- 
quaintanceship. 

"  l/ucky  dog,  that  Hester  I  "  remarked  one  dapper 
youth  io  another. 

"Yes.  They  say  she  once  saved  him  from  the 
stake  or  something  of  the  Kind,  and  that  he  has  her 
monogram  tattooed  on  his  arm,  don't  you  know? 
Romantic,  awfully." 

Out  on  a  broad  veranda,  from  which  they  could 
see  a  flood  of  moon  silver  flecking  the  waters  of  the 
bay,  Donald  was  asking  Ah-mo  many  questions. 
How  did  she  happen  to  be  there?  Where  had  she 
come  from  ?  Why  had  he  not  known  of  her  arrival 
sooner?  Did  she  know  that  Edith  was  to  be 
married?  Why  had  she  left  them  so  mysteri- 
ously and  unkindly  on  the  Muskingum  the  year 
before  ? 

To  these  the  girl  made  answer  that  she  had  come 
from  Oswego  with  her  kind  friend,  Madam  Bullen, 
to  be  bridesmaid  at  the  wedding  of  her  dear  friend, 
Edith  Hester. 

"So  that  is  Edith's  mystery!"  cried  Donald,  who 
had  tried  in  vain  to  find  out  who  was  to  act  in  that 
capacity  on  the  morrow. 

"  Possibly,"  assented  Ah-mo,  with  the  dear  rippling 
laugh  that  had  haunted  the  young  ensign  ever  since 


ni8 


AT   WAU    WITH    rONTIAC 


he  first  heard  it  on  the  far-away  Detroit.  "And 
now,  Mr.  Heater,  that  —  " 

"  Muter  Hester  ?  It  was  not  Mister  Hester  on  the 
banks  of  the  Wisconsin,  Ah-mo." 

"  But  that  was  a  year  and  more  ago.  Besides,  you 
were  not  in  uniform,  then.  Do  you  know  I  don't  think 
I  like  you  in  a  red  coat,  half  so  well  as  in  buckskin  ?  " 

**H  it  were  possible  I  would  discard  it  this 
moment,"  cried  Donald,  "and  I  promise  you,  that 
after  this  night,  T  will  never  wear  it  again.  But, 
speaking  of  dress,  Ah-mo,  while  you  are  bea'Hiful 
beyond  description  in  this  silken  robe,  I  can't  but 
think  that  you  were  still  more  so  in  the  fawn  skin 
and  fur  dress  that  Atoka  and  I  helped  you  make  in 
Beaver  Castle." 

So  they  talked  of  what  had  been  and  what  was  to 
be,  and  of  Donald's  plans  for  Tawtry  House,  until 
suddenly  he  said :  — 

"And  now,  Ah-mo,  I  want  to  ask  you  the  most 
important  question  of  all.  Will  you  —  I  mean,  can 
you-" 

"  Come  in  to  supper,"  interrupted  Paymaster  Bul- 
len,  bustling  out  on  the  veranda  at  that  moment. 
"Who  is  it?  You,  Donald,  and  you,  Ah-mo,  my 
dear  girl?  Why,  there  won't  be  a  bite  left,  if  you 
don't  hurry.  Never  saw  such  feeders  in  my  life. 
'Pon  honor,  T  never  did." 

"  And  I  didn't  have  a  chance  to  ask  my  question," 
whispered  Donald,  disconsolately. 


I 


THE   rillNCKSS   ANSWERS   DONALD'S  QUESTION      310 

"  Perhaps  you  will  have  a  bcttui  chance  the  next 
time  we  meet,"  replied  Ah-iiio,  mischievously. 

On  the  following  day  came  the  wedding,  with  the 
genuine  sensation  of  an  Indian  princess  iis  brides- 
maid, and  opinion  was  evenly  divided  as  to  which 
was  the  loveliest,  —  she,  or  the  bride  herself. 

On  the  day  after,  when  Donald  called  at  the 
Bullens',  with  his  question  trembling  on  his  lips,  he 
Wiis  astounded  and  bewildered  to  learn  that  Ah-mo 
had  left  the  evening  before  'mi  a  swift-sailing  sloop 
for  Albany.  From  there  she  would  hasten  to  Os- 
wego and  rejoin  her  father,  who  only  awaited  her 
coming  to  start  for  his  distant  western  home. 

"  But,  sir,"  said  "Tumnias,"  who  in  all  the  glory 
of  a  gorgeous  new  livery,  had  just  opened  the  door, 
"  the  young  lady  left  a  note  for  you,  hand  'ere  it 


is. 

Hastily  tea^'ing  open  the  dainty  billet  thus  handed 
him,  Donald  read :  — 

"If  your  question  concerns  the  belle  of  a  New 
York  ball-room,  it  had  best  remain  unasked.  If  it 
is  intended  for  a  simple  Indian  girl,  it  had  best  be 
asked  among  the  lodges  of  her  people." 

A  month  later  the  question  was  asked,  and  an- 
swered very  much  to  Donald's  satisfaction ;  while  he, 
clad  in  buckskin,  and  Ah-mo  dressed  as  were  the 
other  girls  of  her  tribe,  drifted  in  a  canoe  on  the 
placid  surface  of  the  Detroit  river.  They  were  mar- 
ried in  the  quaint  little  chapel  of  the  fort,  and,  as 


:X 


320 


AT   WAR   WITH    I'ONTIAC 


Poiitiac  gave  his  Injautiful  daugliter  into  the  arms,  of 
hiin,  wlio  was  now  lx3coinu  doubly  his  80ii»  ho  said:  — 
"  May  the  Great  Spirit,  tlio  All-seeing  Eye  of  the 
Magic  Circle,  who  looks  alike  upon  his  red  children 
of  the  forest,  and  his  white  children  from  beyond  the 
salt  waters,  forever  bless  this  union  of  the  Totem  of 
the  Beaver  with  the  Totem  of  the  Bear." 


THE  END. 


NotiDooti  $r(00 : 

J.  8.  Gushing  &  Co.  -  Berwick  h  Smith. 

Norwoodi  Mmi.,  U.S.A. 


BOOKS  FOR  Young  READERS. 


PUBLISHED  BY  CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS,  N.  Y. 


THE    WHITE    CONQUERORS. 

A  Tale  of   Toltec  and    Aztec.      By   Kirk    Munroe. 
illustrated  by  W.  S.  Stacey.     l2mo,  $1.25. 

"  The  itory  is  replete  with  scenes  of  vivid  power ;  it  is  Aill  of  action  and  rapid 
movement,  and  he  must  be  deficient  in  the  receptive  faculty  who  fails  to  gain 
valuable  historical  instruction,  along  with  the  pleasure  of  reading  a  tale  graphically 
to\A:'— Philadelphia  Bullttin.  t 

"  It  is  no  re-reading  of  Prescott  that  Mr.  Munroe  presents  in  this  fascinating 
volume,  but  an  independent  narrative,  quite  original  in  its  point  of  view,  since  it 
depicts  the  Conquest,  not  seen  through  the  eyes  of  Spaniards,  but  as  it  was 
reg-\rded  by  the  native  races." — Boston  Beacon. 


ROBERT  GRANT'S 
TWO  BOOKS  FOR  BOYS 


Jack  Hall ;  or,  The  School  Days  of  an  American  Boy. 
By  Robert  Grant.  Illustrated  by  Frances  G.  Attwood. 
i2mo,  $1.25. 

"A  better  book  for  boys  has  never  been  written.  It  is  pure,  clean,  and 
healthy,  and  has  throughout  a  vigorous  action  that  holds  the  reader  breathlessly."— 
Boston  Herald. 

"  A  capital  story  for  boys,  wholesome  and  interesting.  It  reminds  one  of  Tom 
Brown." — Boston  Transcript. 


A   Summer   on   a   Salmon 
Illustrated  by  F.  T.    Merrill. 


Jack  in   the   Bush;    or, 

River.      By  Robert  Grant, 

i2ino,  $1.%$. 

"  A  clever  book  for  boys.  It  is  the  story  of  the  camp  life  ot  a  lot  of  boys,  and 
is  destined  to  please  every  boy  reader.  It  is  attractively  illustrated." — Detroit 
Free  Press. 

"An  ideal  story  of  out-door  life  and  genuine  experiences."— ^<7f/(;M 
Traveller. 


'"WKajS^-w-siBWi., 


BOOKS  FOR    YOUNG  READERS. 


G.  A.  Henty's  Popular  Books. 

"  No  country  nor  epoch  of  history  is  there  which  Mr.  Henty  does  not  cover, 
and  what  is  really  reinaf  hable  is  that  he  always  writes  well  and  interestingly. 
Boys  like  stirring  adventures  and  Mr.  Henty  is  a  master  of  this  method  of 
composition." — New  York  Times. 

Each  volume  containing  many  full  page  illustrations.     Crown  8vo, 
cloth,  with  olivine  edges,  J^i.50. 

NE  W  VOL  U ME  S— Just  Published.     . 

A   Knight   of    the  White   Cross.     A  Story  of  the 

Knights  of  St.  John  during  the  Siege  of  Rhodes. 

The  Tiger  of  Mysore.     A  Story  of  the  Conquest  of 
Mysore  and  the  Defeat  of  Tippoo  Tib. 

Through  Russian  Snows.     A  Story  of  Napoleon's 

Campaigns  in  Russia. 

Recently  Published. 

Beric  the  Briton.     A  Story  of  the  Roman  Invasion. 
Condemned  as  b.  Nihilist.     A  Story  of  Escape  from 

Siberia. 

The  Dash  for  Khartoum.     A  Tale  of  the  Nile  Ex- 
pedition. 

Held  Fast   for  England.     A  Tale  of  the   Siege  of 

Gibraltar. 

In  Greek  Waters.     A  Story  of  the  Grecian  War  of 

Independence  [1821-1827]. 

In  the  Heart  of  the  Rockies.     A  Story  of  Adventure 

in  Colorado. 

A  Jacobite    Exile.     Adventures  of  a  Young  English- 
man under  Charles  Xll. 

Redskin   and    Cowboy.     A   Tale    of    the  Western 

Plains. 

St.  Bartholomew's  Eve.     A  Taie  of  the  Huguenot 

Wars, 

Throug  -  the  Sikh  War.     A  Tale  of  the  Conquest  of 

the  Punjaub. 

When   London   Burned.     A   Story   of   Restoration 

Times  and  the  GiC2»  i^ire. 
Wulf  the  Saxon.     A  Story  of  the  Norman  Conquest. 

%♦  The  above  are  Mr.  Henty' s  latest  books.  A  full  descriptive  list  contain- 
ing all  0/ Mr.  Henty's  books— now  47  in  number — will  be  sent  to  any  address  on 
application.     'I hey  are  hll  attractively  illustrated  and  handsomely  bound. 


BOOKS  FOR    YOUNG  READERS. 


Stories  in  Literature  and  History. 

By  HENRIETTA  CHRISTIAN   WRIGHT. 

JUSr    READY. 

Children's  Stories  in  American  Literature,  1660- 

i86o,     i2mo,  $1.25 

Mrs.  Wright  here  continues  her  attractive  presentation  of  literary  history  for 
the  young.  Elliot,  the  translator  of  the  Bible  into  the  Indian  language,  Irving, 
Cooper,  Prescott,  Holmes,  Longfellow,  Hawthorne,  Mrs.  Stowe,  Whittier,  Poe, 
and  Emerson  are  considered,  bringing  the  history  of  the  subject  down  to  the  period 
of  the  Civil  War,  and  treated  with  constant  reference  to  that  side  of  the  works  and 
personalities  which  most  nearly  appeal  to  children. 

FORMER     VOLUMES. 

Children's   Stories   in   English    Literature.     Two 

volumes.     Taliesin  to   Shakesi'Eare — Shakespeare  to  Ten- 
nyson.   i2mo,  each,  $1.25. 

"  It  is  indeed  a  vivid  history  of  the  people  as  well  as  a  story  of  their  literatur<s ; 
and,  brief  as  it  is,  the  author  has  so  deftly  seized  on  all  the  salient  -points,  that  the 
child  who  has  read  this  book  will  be  more  thoroughly  acquainted  man  many  a  stu- 
dent of  history,  with  the  life  and  thought  of  the  centuries." — The  Evangelist. 

Children's  Stories  of  the  Great  Scientists.     With 

portraits.     l2mo,  ^1.25. 

"  The  author  has  succeeded  in  making  her  pen  pictures  of  great  scientists  as 
graphic  as  the  excellent  portraits  that  illustrate  the  work.  Around  each  name  she 
has  picturesquely  grouped  the  essential  features  of  scientific  achievement." — 
Brooklyn  Times. 

Children's  Stories  in  American   History. 

trated.     i2mo,  %\.2^. 

Children's  Stories  of  American  Progress. 


Uius. 
Illus- 


trated.    l2mo,  $1.25. 


"  Miss  Wright  is  favorably  known  by  her  volume  of  well  told  '  Stories  in 
American  History,'  and  her  '  Stories  of  American  Progress  '  is  equally  worthy  of 
commendation.  Taken  together  they  present  a  series  of  pictures  of  great  graphic 
interest.     The  illustrations  are  excellent." —  The  Nation. 


WRITTEN  AND  ILLUSTRATED  BY  HOWaRD  PYLE. 

JUST    PUBLISHED. 

The  Garden  Behind  The  Moon.     A  real  Story  of 

the  Moon  Angel.     With  many  illustrations.     Small  410,  $2.cx}. 

Underneath  the  charm  of  this  delightful  fairy  tale  is  a  mystical  moral  significance 
which  gives  it  the  dignity  of  true  literature.  A  winning  and  charming  piece  of 
fanciful  fiction,  illustrated  in  Mr.  Pyle's  happiest  and  most  poetical  vein. 

FORMER     VOLUMES. 

Otto  of  the  Silver  Hand.     With  many  illustrations. 

Royal  8vo,  half  leather,  $2.00. 

"  The  scene  of  the  story  is  mediaeval  Germany  in  the  time  of  feuds  and  robber 
barons  and  romance.  A  spirited  and  thrilling  story.  The  drawings  are  in  keeping 
with  the  text. ' — Christian  Union, 

The  Merry  Adventures  of  Robin  Hood,  of  Great 

Renown  in  Notinghamshire.     Fully  illustrated.    Royal  8vo,  $3.00. 
"  This  superb  book  is  unquestionably  the  most  original  and  elaborate  ever 
produced  by  any  American  artist." — Boston  Transcript. 


BOOKS  FOR    YOUNG  READERS. 


A  NEW  BOOK  BY  MRS.  BURNETT. 


TWO  LITTLE    PILGRIMS'    PROGRESS. 

A  Story   of   the   City   Beautiful.      By   Mrs.   Frances 

Hodgson  Burneit.    Illustrated  by  Reginald  B.  Birch.    Square 

8vo.,  ^1.50. 

Not  since  "  Faunderoy ''  has  Mrs.  Burnett  offered  to  her  many  readers  so  rare 
a  treat  as  is  to  be  found  in  this  delightful  volume.  It  is  not  a  collection  of  stories, 
but  one  story,  published  here  first  in  book  form,  and  it  is  sure  to  command  a  place 
in  the  hearts  of  its  r  .:aders  by  the  side  of  "  Fauntleroy.*'  Mrs.  Burnet  has  a 
charming  story  to  te^,  and  tells  it  in  I.er  customary  delightful  manner,  reveaMng  on 
every  page  that  complete  sympathy  for  child  life  and  that  rare  power  of  piciuring 
child  character  that  distinguish  her  former  books. 


MRS.  BURNETT* S   OTHER  JUVENILES. 
Little  Lord  Fauntleroy.    Illustrated  by  R.  B.  Birch. 

Square  8vo,  J552.00. 

Louisa  M.  Alcott:  "  In  •  Little  Lord  Fauntleroy*  we  gain  another  charming 
child  to  add  to  our  gallery  of  juvenile  heroes  and  heroines." 

Little  Saint  Elizabeth,  and  Other  Stories.  Illus- 
trated by  R.  B.  Birch.     Square  8vo,  $1.50. 

StJSAN  CooLiDGB :  "  Four  stories,  different  in  kind,  but  alike  in  the  grace  and 
spirit  of  their  handling." 

Sara  Crewe  ;  or,  What  Happened  at  Miss  Minchin's. 
With  7  full-page  illustrations  by  R.  B.  Birch.  Square  8vo,  ^i.oo. 
LouiSB  Chandlbr  Moulton  :  "  I  wish  every  girl  in  America  could  read  it." 

Giovanni  and  the  Other.     Children  Who  Have  Made 

Stories.     With  9  illustrations  by  R.  B.  Birch.     Square  8vo,  $1.50. 
Katb  Douglas  Wiggin  :  "  The  stories  are  beautiful  in  tone,  style,  and  color." 

Piccino   and   Other   Child  Stories.     Illustrated  by 
Reginald  B.  Birch.     Square  8vo,  ^1.50. 
Mrs.  Burton  Harrison  ;  "  A  delightful  volume." 


CHARLES   SCRIBNER'S   SONS, 


NEW  YORK. 


\ 


\ 


